Changing Lives
by Mabel Marsters
Summary: William Pratt is bullied mercilessly at school, his home life is a mess with an alcoholic mother. He begins to make friends just before he and his mom go to stay with her sister in London. Fate steps in and changes his life forever... AWARD WINNING FIC!
1. Chapter 1

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Story starts just before summer vacation at the end of their junior year in high school. (Both are normal American kids, yes, I did say both are American kids!!)

Buffy Summers – Whilst not in the Cordelia Chase elite group of popularity, she has a good circle of friends, Willow, Xander, Oz.

William Pratt – Bullied mercilessly, bookish, quiet, straight A student.

Chapter One

Sunnydale High – The last Monday of term.

William Pratt hated school; well to be more accurate, he loved school, he just hated the fact it was full of students. The students fell into roughly two categories according to William - the ones who ignored him and the ones who gave him hell. He tried to make himself invisible to them all, tending to wear drab, dull colours that blended in to the background - beiges, tans, browns. He was about five feet nine inches but held himself a little stooped so he appeared shorter, and was slightly built. His wavy sandy brown hair was unruly, providing ammunition for jibes and taunts, as did the seriously untrendy spectacles framing his blue eyes. The fact that he was the brainiest student in the school sealed his fate as being the most bullied. Even if he didn't study, he always aced any tests. He just had to read something once and he remembered it.

He walked into the cafeteria with trepidation, his blue eyes scanning the room. He let out a sigh of relief; his primary tormentor wasn't there, he might actually get to eat his lunch. He picked up a tray and walked along selecting a club sandwich, an apple and a carton of juice - food that could easily slip into his pockets so he could escape to the relative safety of the school grounds. He was just putting his change into his pocket when he froze.

"_No, please no."_ he thought in horror.

"Oh look guys, look who's here, it's the prat!" sneered Angel, his sidekick Davey sniggering.

Angel was tall - very tall, and strongly built. His hair, so dark as to be almost black, was cut short and kept in place with gel. He was the best football player Sunnydale High had ever had. They were going to win the interschool league for the first time in the school's history. The final match was irrelevant as they were already too far ahead on points to be caught. This gave him an almost invincible air. He didn't seem to do much in the way of schoolwork these days; it's not like he even bothered to get it done by others anymore. The teachers had long since given up nagging him for his work. Principal Snyder basically guaranteed he would pass this year as long as he brought the football trophy back to Sunnydale.

"Er….hi….er….Angel." stuttered William, eyes downcast trying to sidle away.

"Er….hi….er….Angel." mocked Angel, moving to block William's path. "Where do you think you're going?"

Angel was dressed in his trademark black from head to toe, making him seem even more menacing, which was why he wore it.

"Um…. going outside…to eat…er…to eat my lunch." William replied.

"You were going to, you mean." said Angel. He nodded to Davey, who was Angel's best friend and partner in crime. His hair was yellow blond and he was clad in blue denim jeans with a leather biker's jacket.

Davey got hold of William's jacket and started to rifle through his pockets. He pulled out the apple and tossed it to Angel, who caught it and took a bite out of it.

"Cheers, William." said Angel.

Davey relieved William of his sandwich and started to tuck into it. William tried to walk away.

"Oh no you don't." said Angel, grabbing his collar roughly and pulling him back, "What else have you got?" he pulled out the juice. "You thirsty, Davey?"

"Nah, I'm not, are you thirsty, Angel?" grinned Davey, knowing exactly what Angel had planned.

"No, I'm not thirsty either." He stuck the straw into the carton, "I bet William is though."

He squeezed the carton so its contents hit the hapless William in the face. Angel and Davey laughed loudly, soon joined by most of the students in the cafeteria.

William took his glasses off and started to wipe them clean with the hem of his sweater. He started to move away again, but found his exit blocked once more, this time by a petite blonde girl.

"Why don't you pick on someone your own size, you creep!" she shouted, hands on her hips, staring at Angel furiously.

"Buffy Summers," sneered Angel, "You'll be getting a reputation for sticking up for misfits at this rate." casting a glance over to the friends she'd just left.

"The only misfit around here is you, you Neanderthal." she retorted. She turned to William, "You ok?"

"Er..fine, yes, I'm fine." He sidestepped quickly around her, a faint flush of pink colouring his cheeks as he ducked out of sight.

Once outside, William leant back against the wall, banging his head back against it hard enough to bring tears to his eyes. Could things get any worse? Not only had Angel had a go at him in front of the whole cafeteria but he had a girl stick up for him, a girl! Not just any girl, but Buffy - blonde, beautiful, sassy and the object of his desires for the past two years, ever since she'd arrived at Sunnydale. Not that she knew about it of course. In fact, the sentence he'd managed to croak out at her just now was the longest he'd managed to utter in her presence.

"_So she finally notices me when I'm covered in juice and the laughing stock of the school."_

He stood there, hands deep in his trouser pockets, leaning against the brick wall at the side of the school, wishing he really were invisible.

When the bell went for afternoon class, even the fact it was English, his favourite subject, didn't cheer him. Nope, it didn't cheer him up at all because Buffy was in his English class, and he didn't think he could bear to see her. He walked slowly along the corridor, dragging the toes of his shoes on the floor as he walked. When he got to the classroom he took his usual seat at the front right desk.

"Hey, William."

He looked up. Willow was smiling at him as she walked to her seat at the back of the room.

"Hey, Willow." he said, managing to return the smile to the pretty red head, dressed as usual in vibrant clashing colours. Solidarity between the class 'brains' even if he always did come out ahead.

He quickly looked down and fiddled with his textbooks as she was followed in by Buffy.

"_Please don't let her say anything about lunchtime. Please don't let her say anything about lunchtime."_ He prayed.

"William?" she said.

He looked up.

"_Oh God, she was going to say something about lunchtime, just in case anyone here missed it."_

"Is there any chance I could borrow your notes from the last lesson please?" she said, literally dazzling him with her smile.

"Oh thank God." he said.

"What?" she looked puzzled.

"Um, sorry….er…yes you can." He rummaged in his bag and pulled a folder out, all neatly labelled - he didn't have a reputation of being a nerd for nothing.

He passed it to her, meeting her eyes briefly before blushing and looking away.

"Thanks, William, you're a life saver." she said, giving another dazzling smile that he totally missed. She then went to sit next to Willow.

Oooooo

Willow passed Buffy a note as the teacher, an older woman nearing retirement age, droned on and on about something; Buffy couldn't remember what- Mrs. Walker had a tendency to ramble. William Pratt normally kept her on track by interrupting her and asking the correct questions to get her to return to the subject in hand, but he'd been silent for the whole of the lesson so far.

Buffy opened the note.

(So, why did you ask William for his notes? You could have borrowed mine. What's wrong with your notes anyway?")

Buffy scribbled her reply.

(Nothing wrong with my notes. Just wanted to talk to William.)

Willow read it and passed it back.

(Why?)

Buffy looked at her and raised her eyebrows at her best friend.

"Oh!" exclaimed Willow.

"Something to share with the rest of the class Miss Rosenberg?" asked Mrs Walker.

"No, no, sorry." said Willow.

Luckily the bell for the end of class chose to ring at that moment. Usually the last to leave the room, this time William was up and out of the door almost before the bell stopped ringing. Buffy and Willow made their way out of the classroom and along the corridor.

"So?" said Willow.

"So." replied Buffy innocently. "Ow!" she added as Willow punched her on the arm.

"Come on. Spill." insisted Willow.

"Nothing to spill really, I just sort of like him." said Buffy.

"Sort of like him? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well I don't know him really, but he is kind of cute, when he's not getting beat down by that goon Angel." said Buffy, "Feel a bit sorry for him too, I guess. I don't think he's really got any friends."

"Yeah, he is a sweet guy, I suppose." said Willow. "So what's your plan, Buffy?"

"What do you mean, what's my plan?" It was Buffy's turn to punch Willow in the arm. "I just thought I might see if he'll study with me one night, that's all. Just be his friend, get to know him a bit more." She grinned at her friend.

"And you decide this when there's only four more days before school's out for the summer. Timing much?" said Willow.

"I know, but it was just when Angel had a go at him at lunch, it was just so mean and no one stood up for him. They just kept watching. I'm not going anywhere this summer and neither are you or Xander, so I thought if he was around we might get him to join in with us a bit. It might make his senior year a bit more fun when we go back."

Oooooo

William hurried home, glad to be out of the way of the likes of Angel, but as he neared home his pace slowed. When he was at school he longed to get home, away from everybody, but when he was at home he equally longed to escape to school.

He walked along the streets heading towards his home. It was in a shabby neighbourhood and his house was one of the shabbiest - the paint peeling from the woodwork, a few shingles loose on the roof, the picket fence at the front, more broken down than erect. He walked up the steps into the porch and unlocked the door.

"William? Is that you?"

"Yeah Mom, it's me." he replied, _"Who else could it be?"_

He couldn't remember the last time anyone had called round. The house was a mess and William had long ago given up trying to keep the place neat. His mother was as much of a mess as the house she lived in.

William walked straight into the only tidy room of the whole house, his bedroom. He threw his bag on the bed and hung his jacket over the back of the chair near his desk. Unlike the rooms of most boys his age, he had neither a computer nor cd player. They couldn't afford them, but one wall was lined with shelves of books, mostly paperbacks, all of them tattered but lovingly stored alphabetically by the surname of the authors. They varied dramatically in type, from Shakespeare and Dickens to Dean Koontz and Jim Butcher. They were bought at second hand bookstores, apart from the odd pristine hardback, sent for birthdays or Christmas by his Aunt Julia from England, his Mom's twin sister.

His father had disappeared when he was eight years old. He hadn't been sorry; he'd been beaten by him too many times to regret it. He'd beaten his Mom, too. He disappeared after the night William had found him in a drunken rage, viciously hitting his mother. He'd tried to stop him, putting himself between his Mom and Dad - he'd tried to protect her. Instead he'd ended up in hospital for a week, like his mother, and had never seen his Dad again.

He'd thought he'd just gone and left them until Angel told him one day that his Dad was in jail, the attack on his wife and son so severe that Steven Pratt was sentenced to eight years. He served two before another inmate stabbed him to death in the showers.

William had thought his Mom would be glad to be free of the man who hurt her so badly and so often, but she just fell apart, refusing her sister's pleas to return to her native England. Her self esteem so shattered by her ten years of marriage that she simply couldn't cope without him. She drank, and because of that she couldn't hold a job. They'd only managed to keep the house because of an insurance policy on his father.

"William, Come here baby, I've got something to show you." called his Mom from the kitchen.

William went through to see her.

"Hey, Mom." he said.

He didn't go over to kiss her or hug her, as she didn't like being touched.

"What is it?"

She looked less drunk than usual. She had a faint glimmer in her blue eyes that were so like his own. She handed him an envelope.

"Look at that." she said.

He took it from her and looked at it, he recognised the handwriting right away – his Aunt Julia. He looked at his Mom quizzically.

"Go on, open it." she urged.

He lifted the flap of the envelope and pulled out its contents – two plane tickets to London dated this Saturday with the return date the weekend before the start of the new school year.

His face split into a rare wide smile. He looked at his Mom in disbelief, but she was nodding her head, tears in her eyes.

"Yes, William, we're going to England for the summer. Your Aunt Julia's having us stay.

"Wow." breathed William, "Wow."

He'd wanted to visit England ever since he'd read his first classic novel, and now he was going. He was actually going to get to see London.

"She's sent some money so we can get new clothes for the trip. Think you could miss school tomorrow so we can go shopping?" asked his Mom.

William had never ditched school before, but remembered lunchtime and nodded his head quickly.

"That'd be great, Mom."

To be continued…….


	2. Chapter 2

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Chapter Two 

The next morning William got up at his usual time but instead of having his breakfast and heading off to school, he sat in his room reading the latest Jim Butcher novel and waiting for his Mom to wake up. She hadn't drunk as much last night so he hoped she'd get up earlier than she usually did - he was looking forward to getting some new clothes. He'd hardly slept. He was so excited about the trip to England; he still couldn't believe it was going to happen. When he was eleven his Aunt Julia had sent money over for them to buy tickets to go visit them but his mom had used it to pay some bills and buy plenty of liquor.

His aunt had been furious, and he'd been devastated, especially since he'd told his classmates at school that he was going to England. That was back then when he still hoped to be accepted at school, still hoped to have some friends. It also marked the real start of his persecution by Angel. When the trip hadn't happened, Angel had made sure everyone knew what a liar William was.

At about ten thirty he heard his mother get up and an hour later the pair headed to the local mall.

"Well, what do you want to get, William? Some new jeans?"

"Yeah, that'd be great." he replied,

His mom looked different this morning. Her blue eyes were a little less bloodshot and she actually looked happy. He could hardly remember her looking happy. He grinned back at her. Perhaps this trip would help her get herself back together. He hoped so.

They spent the rest of the day wandering in and out of stores, buying t-shirts and jeans for William and a couple of nice dresses for his mom. She looked so pretty in them, twirling round for his approval before she bought them.

"You look great, Mom."

They'd even spent a little of the money on lunch out, a real treat for them. Their eating habits were erratic at best, depending on his mom's level of sobriety.

As they made their way home, his mom went into a liquor store and came out clutching two bottles of vodka. She didn't meet William's eye as she came out, not wanting to see her son's disapproval but needing the alcohol. Her good mood faded as they walked home. She was worried about seeing her twin sister again; it had been years since she had last seen her.

When they got home William walked silently into his bedroom and shut the door, not wanting to witness his mother once again rendering herself comatose with the drink. Their house was all on one level and she watched as he closed the door. It irritated her that he'd gone all silent on her since she'd bought the vodka. They'd been having such a good day and now he'd ruined it. Her hand shook as she opened the bottle and sloshed a generous amount into a glass. She downed it in one large gulp, holding the glass against her forehead as she felt the liquid sear its way down to her stomach. She poured another and then another…..

ooooooo

William jumped as his door was flung open. He'd been sitting on his bed reading. He leapt up, book falling to the floor.

"Mom?" his voice wavered.

She stood in the doorway, swaying slightly.

"Who are you to judge me?" she shouted.

William cringed - he knew this routine too well. She'd be aggressive, then collapse in tears until she'd drunk enough to pass out.

"I wasn't judging, Mom." he said quietly.

"Yes, you were! You don't know what it's like! How hard it is!" she yelled, "All you do is sit in here with your bloody books."

It was funny how she sounded even more English when she was angry. She started flinging his precious books off the shelves. He stood watching, rooted to the spot, unable to move, knowing it would make her worse if he did. She held one book in her hand and stared at her son.

"You love these bloody books more than you love me." she screamed.

At that point she wasn't wrong. He did hate her when she was like this. She tore the cover from the book and tore pages out of its middle, letting them float to the floor.

"No!" William cried, legs finally able to work, as he ran to her, "Please don't."

"Don't you dare tell your mother what to do!" her pretty features contorted with rage.

She lashed out, hitting her son hard in the face. He was unbalanced from the blow so he tripped on the books strewn across the floor and fell amongst them. He laid there, tears in his eyes, his hand clamped to his right eye which was already swelling.

His Mom looked down at him and her whole demeanour changed. She burst into tears and sat with him, flinging her arms around him. He tried not to flinch away from her touch as he knew that made her angry so he just sat there, body held rigid.

"Oh, baby, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, I'm sorry." she sobbed.

He'd heard it all before. He was suddenly a little afraid of what the summer might hold for them. Would Aunt Julia send them home if his mom behaved like this?

His mom eventually went out of his room and back into the kitchen where she'd left her bottle. He got up and shut the door. Surveying the scene in front of him, he sighed and started to pick the books up, not bothering about their order, and put them on the shelves. He picked up the book she'd ruined. Had she chosen it deliberately? It was his favourite book, the first his aunt had bought him when she'd learnt of his passion for books. It was "Pride and Prejudice". It transported him away from his less than happy life to another world each time he read it. It was irreparable. Anger flared in him briefly. He hated his life, every part of it. He flung himself down on his bed and let the tears fall, hating himself for crying but unable to hold them in any longer.

Ooooooo

Buffy had looked out for William at school but hadn't found him. She was surprised, as far as she knew he'd never missed a day that term. It was a shame he was ill and had lost his 100 record so near to the end of term.

"Hey Buffster." Xander called to her, "Heading to lunch?"

"Yeah." she replied, joining the tall brown haired boy and walking beside him, "Where's Willow?"

Xander grinned at her, "Oz's practicing with his band so she's gone with him to watch."

"They're getting pretty close." said Buffy, returning his smile.

"Yeah, Willow with the cool boyfriend, who'd have thought it?"

Buffy glanced at Xander. Was that a touch of jealousy she was hearing? Willow had wanted Xander to be more than a friend for a long time but had finally realised it wasn't going to happen. Then, at the career fair, she'd been in the same group as Oz and they'd immediately hit it off. A bit of an unlikely couple, Oz was no taller than Willow, with hair that varied from brown to orange depending on how he was feeling. He was self assured, quiet, monosyllabic most of the time, with a dry sense of humour. Willow was bubbly and chatty, with an air of vulnerability that made all her friends want to protect her.

After selecting their food the pair sat at one of the tables.

"Got any plans for the summer?" asked Xander, with a grin that right away told her that Willow had told him of her hopes of befriending William.

"No." she replied innocently.

"Yeah, right." said Xander, "So where's young William today?"

She sighed, "I dunno, it's the first day he's missed since I've been here, I think."

"First day he's missed at school since he was in hospital when he was eight." said Xander.

"Boy, that's some attendance record." said Buffy, in awe, "What happened when he was eight?"

"Well, the official story was that he and his mom had been in a car crash but it was all over the school, courtesy of Angel, that his dad had beaten them and then ended up in jail."

"Oh no! Poor William." said Buffy, her heart going out to him.

"Yeah, his dad died in jail few years later. Now William gets picked on by Angel everyday." said Xander grimly, realising that although he wasn't guilty of joining in with bullying William, he was guilty of not trying to stop it. It was too easy just to keep your head down and be glad it wasn't you when things like that happen.

"Do you know where he lives?" asked Buffy.

"No, no I don't." replied Xander.

"See you later, ok?" said Buffy getting up, "Just need to do something before class."

"Sure thing, Buff."

Ooooooo

Ten minutes later she marched out of the school office.

"Stupid rules." she snarled to herself.

She'd tried to get William's home address but no matter what she'd said, the secretary wouldn't budge. No details of students could be given out.

"_Oh well, I suppose I'll see him tomorrow." _she thought as she went to suffer the afternoon class of history. She hated history. She lived very much in the now and what happened a hundred years ago just couldn't hold her interest.

To be continued……


	3. Chapter 3

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: Just borrowing the characters!

Chapter Three

William quietly let himself out of the house and made his way to school, glad his hair was long enough to at least partially hide the black eye that had emerged over night.

"_Only four more days and I'll be on a plane to England"_ he thought as he walked, kicking a pebble along in front of him.

He'd just got to the school gates when a voice rang out.

"Hey, William."

He stopped and turned around. He'd recognised the voice immediately but still couldn't believe he'd heard right. But he had, Buffy was running up the steps to catch up with him. She was wearing a light blue sweater over a short navy skirt. She looked beautiful. He felt himself start to blush and dropped his gaze.

"Hi, Buffy." His voice sounded a little odd.

"Where were you yesterday?" she asked as she got to him.

"Um, I was….er…..ill." he stuttered, never having been good at lying.

"Oh, well, I'm glad you're feeling better." replied Buffy brightly.

William couldn't help but look at her in astonishment when she said that. Why would she care? He saw her smile fade as she noticed the black eye. He ducked his head and increased his pace a little. She kept stride with him easily, then put a hand on his arm and stopped him.

"What happened to your eye? It wasn't Angel, was it?"

Looking at his shoes, he hesitated for a moment.

"No, it wasn't Angel, I just….er….walked into a cupboard door." he said. It sounded like a complete lie even to his own ears.

Buffy believed that it hadn't been Angel, but the door thing, I mean, how lame was that? To William's relief the bell rang for class. He turned to go and again a small hand was put on his arm. He turned back to look at her.

"I've got to go. I don't want to be late on top of missing yesterday."

Buffy smiled. Now that was pure 'William'.

"Will you have lunch with us?" she asked.

"What? Is this 'cause of Monday 'cause I don't……."

"It's just an invite, William," huffed Buffy, cutting him off, "Take it or leave it." she turned and walked away.

A quick glance back showed he was still standing there looking after her. She was grinning as she met up with Willow to go to class. He was sure to show. He might be a bit beat down but his pride hadn't liked the thought it might be sympathy so that's why she'd just walked away acting like she didn't care less. Oh yes, he'd show for sure.

"What's with the huge smile?" asked Willow.

"William's going to meet up with us for lunch." said Buffy, "How was Oz's practice session?"

"It was briliant! They're playing The Bronze on Friday, it'll be great." replied Willow and she launched into a note by note account of every song.

Oooooo

William paused before he pushed open the door into the cafeteria. He took a deep breath and walked in.

"_If she's not here, I'll just get my food and go back outside."_

He quickly made his choices, glancing around the room as he paid. He spotted Buffy right away - one advantage of having a very colourful friend. Willow dressed today in a startling combination of pinks and purples.

"_She must have been looking out for me."_ he thought as Buffy caught his eye and waved. He started towards her, not noticing Angel approaching from the right.

"Nice shiner." He sneered as he got to William.

William's heart fell to his boots.

"_Not again, not twice in a week."_

"Hey, pal, hurry up, I'm starving." said Xander from behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder and pushing him forwards, "Look, they've saved our seats."

Xander walked between William and Angel, glaring at the quarterback as he did. Angel glanced at Buffy, Willow and Oz at the table.

"Whatever." He stalked off.

Everyone pretended not to notice how William's hands shook a little as he put his tray on the table.

"William, glad you made it." said Buffy, with a smile that lifted his heart back up to where it should be.

"Um…thanks for asking me." he said, shyly, "Hi." He added, looking at the others.

He got a chorus of 'hi's' in return. He slowly stated to relax, listening to the others chattering away.

"You'll come too, won't you, William?" asked Willow.

"Where?"

"To The Bronze on Friday night. Oz's band is playing." said Willow, proudly.

"Um."

"Come on," said Xander, "It'll be fun."

"We're all going," added Buffy, "Oz'll be hurt if you don't go, won't you?"

"Hurt, sure." said Oz.

"Uh, ok, as long as you don't mind?" said William.

"Wouldn't ask if we didn't want ya to come along." said Willow, smiling at him.

"Thanks, then, I'd like to come." He smiled back.

Buffy thought how good he looked when he smiled.

"_Have to make him do it more often." _

As they all got up at the end of lunch, Buffy asked William if he'd like to study together that night.

"I can come to your house, my mom won't mind." she said, crossing her fingers as she intended to get Willow to cover for her saying she was at her house.

"No!" it was almost a shout.

Buffy stared at him. She could see him withdrawing into himself as she watched.

"No." he repeated, "Can't, sorry." And he scurried out of the room.

"What did you say to him?" asked Willow

"Just if I could study with him tonight. I said I'd go to his house."

The girls looked at each other, both thinking the same thought - that perhaps his home life reflected his school one, cupboard doors aside.

Oooooo

William walked home from school lost in his thoughts. He'd enjoyed meeting the others for lunch. They'd all seemed nice but he was still a bit puzzled as to why Buffy had asked him. He hoped she'd ask again tomorrow, and that rushing off like he had hadn't put her off. He was grateful to Xander for preventing Angel from having another pop at him.

He unlocked the door and went inside. The TV was blaring. He walked into the lounge room and saw his mother asleep on the couch, half empty bottle by her side. He turned the TV down, looked down at his mom for a moment, wishing he could help her, then walked to his room.

There was a sharp rap at the door. He looked at it as if trying to see the person outside without having to first open it. He hoped his mom didn't owe anybody any money. The rapping was repeated a little more loudly.

He went to the door and opened it. His eyes widened when he saw that it was Buffy. Then he blushed deep crimson, stepped onto the porch and pulled the door shut so she couldn't see how untidy the house was.

"What are you doing here?"

"_Ok, Willow, so you were right, not a good idea to follow him home."_

"I just could really use some help with my history assignment." she said.

He glanced around the garden, seeing it as if for the first time. There was no getting away from it; the place was a dump. He bet her home was better kept than this- way better kept. As he hesitated to reply, Buffy felt terrible that she'd come like this.

"Sorry, William, it was rude of me to follow you. I'll see you tomorrow, ok?" She turned, walked down the porch steps and was nearly at the sidewalk before he spoke.

"Wait."

She stopped and turned to look at him. He fidgeted a bit, glanced over his shoulder at the door, then said,

"Um, it's ok, you can come in."

"Are you sure?" asked Buffy, still feeling bad at putting him in this position.

"Yeah, as long as….um….you don't mind being in my room?"

"No, I don't mind that." she replied with a smile he couldn't help but return.

He opened the door and tried to block her view of the house as much as possible as he led her to his room. He didn't look at her until he closed his bedroom door once they were inside, so he missed her eyes widen at the state of his home. It was untidy and dirty, with the furnishings well worn. But what she couldn't miss seeing was the empty liquor bottles strewn upon seemingly every surface.

His bedroom, however, was spotlessly clean, even though everything was old and shabby. There wasn't a thing out of place. Even the pens on his desk were in a straight line. She soon noticed the absence of computer, music system and TV - all the usual teenage requirements. By the look of the house it was unlikely they were just in another room.

"Wow, so you like books, then?" said Buffy, stating the obvious while pointing to the groaning shelves.

"Yeah, I do." He gestured for her to sit on the bed and then he sat on the chair to his desk, turning it around so they were facing each other.

"So which is your favourite?"

William's face clouded for a second before he replied.

"My all time favourite is Pride and Prejudice." he said.

Buffy looked at him blankly.

"You haven't heard of it?" he asked, incredulously.

"Erm, not big with the books, really." said Buffy.

Shortly afterwards she was glad she'd not read it as he launched into a not so brief synopsis of it. He lost his usual nervy posture and became animated, his eyes bright and meeting hers instead of looking at the floor. She realised that she was now in the world in which he lived probably most of the time, somewhere where he could lose himself.

"William!" a voice called.

He stiffened, a look of panic passed through his eyes before he stood up.

"Um, it's my mom…..er…..won't be long." He hurried out of the room, closing the door behind him.

"_God, his mom nearly has him as nervous as Angel."_ thought Buffy, sadly.

William walked into the lounge.

"Hi, Mom."

He relaxed a bit when he saw her. She wasn't as drunk as the night before. She usually wasn't after getting into a rage - her guilt at hurting him keeping her in check, for a few days at least.

"Did I hear you talking?" she asked.

"Er…yeah, Mom, just a girl from school, wanting to study with me."

"A girl from school?" she smiled at him. This was a first.

He nodded, "Better get back, she can't stay too long. It was ok, though, wasn't it?"

"Yes, it's ok, honey."

"Thanks Mom." he said as he returned to his room.

His mom watched him leave. She knew that part of the thanks were due to her not being too drunk. _"He's a good boy is my William. I've got to try to stop drinking so much."_

He went back into his room to find Buffy looking at his books on the shelves since there was nothing else to look at, really.

"Everything ok?" she asked, glancing at his black eye without knowing she had.

"_She knows."_

He paused for a second.

"Um, yeah, it's ok." He flushed a bit and wouldn't meet her gaze.

"You're going to come to The Bronze on Friday, aren't you? You're not going to bail?"

He looked up.

"No, I'll be there."

"That's good." said Buffy, sitting back down on the bed and smiling as William once again sat on his chair and not beside her. "So, got any plans for the summer?"

The question seemed to stump him - he just looked at her.

"I haven't." Buffy mentioned, "My mom's gallery is always busiest during summer vacation so I never get to go anywhere."

"If I …er….tell you something, you won't tell anyone, will you?" said William.

Intrigued, Buffy replied, "No, of course not."

"I'm going to England." he said.

"Wow! For the whole summer?" He nodded. "How cool is that?" Buffy said.

"I know, we're going to stay with my mom's twin sister and her family: Aunt Julia, Uncle Thomas and my cousin James, he's the same age as me.

"You'll have to send me a card." said Buffy, "When do you go?"

"Saturday afternoon. We've got the tickets and everything, but you won't tell, will you?"

"No, I won't, but why not? I'd want to tell everybody."

"I just don't want to jinx it. I was supposed to go a few years ago but then didn't." said William

Buffy could guess the rest without him saying another word. She looked at her watch.

"I'd better go home. See you at school tomorrow?"

"Yes, you will." He got to the door to the bedroom before her and politely opened it for her to go through. He then repeated the gesture with the front door and watched her walk out of sight before closing the door.

To be continued…….


	4. Chapter 4

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: The characters are not mine but the plot is!

Chapter Four

It was Friday night. School was out for summer. William had met up with Buffy, Xander and Willow for lunch on Thursday and Friday, Oz too busy with last minute rehearsals to join them. He'd gotten a little more comfortable in their company and, just by not being alone, Angel had left him mercifully unbullied.

Now he was getting ready to meet them all to go to The Bronze. He normally didn't put any thought into what he wore, he just grabbed the nearest thing. But tonight he wanted to look nice. He knew it wasn't a 'date', wasn't anywhere near a 'date', but he still wanted to try to impress Buffy.

He decided he'd wear his new blue Levi jeans that he'd bought for the trip but didn't know what shirt to wear. His mom had insisted on some more colourful shirts than he usually chose when they were shopping. William was so used to trying not to stand out that he wasn't sure he could wear one tonight. He was just picking up a brownish sweater when his mom walked into his room.

"How are you getting on? You don't want to be late." she said, smiling at her son.

She'd kept her drinking to the minimum level she could cope with the past couple of days and they'd managed to eat proper meals together, both of them equally anxious that she didn't 'lose it' in England.

"Yeah, I'm ready." he said, pulling the sweater over his head and dislodging his glasses as he did.

"Why aren't you wearing one of your new shirts?" she asked.

"Um, well….I…er…was saving them for the trip." he stuttered.

She smiled at him sadly, she knew he got bullied, and she knew she wasn't much help. That's why Julia had invited them to stay. She'd poured her heart out to her twin a few months ago, saying how she was struggling to cope and was worried about William. She hadn't told Julia things like that for years, but she'd posted the letter before either her courage ran out or what was left of her pride kicked in. She needed help and she knew it.

"Here, honey," she said, picking up a royal blue shirt, "Wear this, it'll bring out the colour of your eyes."

"Mom!" said William, blushing slightly.

"Come on, wear it for me, please." She'd given her son so little over the years. She wanted to give him a little confidence tonight.

""I dunno?" he said doubtfully, but pulled off his sweater and put the shirt on.

"That's better." exclaimed his mom.

Impulsively she flung her arms around him, tears pricking her eyes as he tensed.

"_Yes, I've done a great job with my son."_

"You look great." Her voice choked up as she spoke.

"Thanks." he replied, looking at himself in the mirror. It certainly did look better than the sweater. "I'd better be going. You're sure you'll be ok?"

"Yes, I'll be fine. Don't worry about me, have a good time, William."

He shoved a few dollars into his jeans pocket, picked up his key from the hall table and set off, heading to Buffy's house. She'd given him directions, thinking it would be better for him if they all met up there rather than have him walk into The Bronze on his own.

When he got to the door of the house on Revello Drive his courage almost failed him. The house was huge compared to his and immaculately kept. He knocked lightly on the door and it was opened almost at once by a tall blonde woman obviously Buffy's mother. She smiled at him.

"Hello. You must be William. Come on in."

"Um, hello Mrs. Summers." said William shyly, stepping in and following her into the lounge.

"Take a seat." she said, gesturing to the couch.

William sat down and tried not to stare too much at the surroundings. The room was perfectly tidy. Ornaments adorned the surfaces, not bottles like in his home. He looked at Mrs. Summers and wondered what made her so different from his own mom. She was on her own but hadn't fallen apart. He never could get his head around the fact that his mom wasn't glad to be rid of his father. He didn't realise that the years of abuse she'd taken during her marriage had broken her so badly. He glanced at his watch.

"She'll be down soon." said Buffy's mom when she saw him. "If you hang around with Buffy and her friends for long enough you'll soon find their timing and the 'real' world's are a little different. You need to add on about a half hour to know when they're really going to be ready."

She smiled at him - the poor kid looked so nervous. There was a knock at the door and Willow and Xander came in laughing.

"Hi, Mrs. Summers. Buffy still not ready?" asked Xander.

He was wearing black jeans and one of his trademark loudly coloured shirts. He spotted William on the couch.

"Hey William, glad you're here. Boy do I need help keeping this one calm." he said, pointing at Willow, "The whole 'my boyfriend's in a band' thing has gone to her head."

"No, it has not." she squealed, giving Xander a friendly punch on his arm.

She sat next to William. She too was brightly dressed in a long red skirt with a white and red blouse. William suddenly didn't feel self-conscious of his own blue shirt - it was quite bland in comparison to these two.

Willow leaned in close to William, "I think it has a bit, but I'm still denying it to Xander!" she giggled.

William just smiled back, still a bit too shy to think of anything witty to say. A few minutes later and Buffy walked down the stairs.

"'Bout time, Buff." said Xander, "Come and rescue poor William, otherwise Willow will have done everything but sing the songs to him."

"No, I won't!" protested Willow. "Have I been babbling?" she added to William.

"A little bit, but I don't mind." said William.

"See? Come on, let's go." Xander took Willow by the hand and pulled her up off the couch.

William stood up and looked at Buffy. Always beautiful in his eyes, she looked especially nice that night, in a pair of figure hugging black pants and pink silky blouse, her blonde hair loose and falling around her shoulders in soft waves. She looked at him and held her arm out to him.

"Shall we go?" she smiled.

He flushed a little and linked his arm self consciously through hers and together they followed Willow and Xander out of the house.

William was having a great time even before they got to The Bronze, Buffy had kept her arm linked through his until she'd chased Xander after he'd made a comment about how lame Icecapades was. They'd streaked ahead of the other two until Xander let Buffy catch him and apologised very insincerely. Willow grabbed William's hand.

"Come on!" she urged and the two ran along to catch up.

Ooooooooo

The Bronze was heaving, being the Friday school broke up added to the pull of the band playing and meant it was full to capacity. Oz might maintain that 'Dingoes Ate My Baby' weren't up to much but they were very popular. Luckily they managed to find a table. It only had a couple of bar stools around it that the boys gallantly let the girls sit on. Xander and William went to the bar to get some drinks - Cokes all around except for Willow who Xander thought was hyper enough already and got her a lemonade.

"Glad you came, William." said Xander as they were walking back. The more he got to know him the more he liked him. "I know Buffy is too." he added with a bit of a leer.

William stared at Xander, _"No, he couldn't mean it how it sounded, could he_?_"_

"I'm glad I came, too. I've never been here before." He grinned back at Xander. _"Make that never been anywhere before." _

They rejoined the girls standing behind their stools so Buffy and Willow swivelled round to face them.

"So how long before Oz's band is onstage?" asked William.

"They're due on in half an hour." said Willow. It was the first gig the band had played since Willow and Oz got together, hence the appearance of 'Hyper Willow'.

The music the DJ was playing changed from a fast dance track to a slow one. Buffy got off her stool, took William's hand and started to walk to the dance floor, pulling him along behind her. When he realised where she was heading he stopped. She looked around at him.

"Come on." She smiled at him, eyes sparkling, "I want to dance."

"But….I….um…." stuttered William, "I can't dance!" he finally blurted out, grateful that it was dark enough to hide the fact he was blushing.

"Slow dancing isn't like dancing, it's more like standing still and you can do that okay. Come on, it's easy." She gave his hand another tug and he let her lead him onto the dance floor.

Once there she turned to him, put her hands on his shoulders and stepped in close to him. He hesitated, then put his hands on her hips. It felt awkward for a moment or two, swaying in time to the music, as Buffy leaned in closer still. She rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes.

"_Ok, I've died and gone to heaven." _thought William as he wrapped his arms around her. Suddenly it didn't feel awkward at all.

The track blended into another slow song, the DJ giving a reprieve before Dingoes came on and started to rock. William bent his head down so it was touching hers and with his eyes shut moved slowly to the rhythm of the song.

Ooooooo

"Hey, look! What's over there." sneered Davey, pointing out William and Buffy to Angel.

"The Pratt's getting ideas above his station." snarled Angel, still smarting from Buffy standing up to him in the cafeteria.

Oooooooo

The dance finally ended and Buffy and William let each other go, William's shyness once again kicking in as he didn't quite meet her eyes. Buffy stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek.

"Thanks, William, that was lovely."

Before he could react she turned and made her way back to Xander and Willow, still pulling him along by his hand. Buffy had decided that she really liked William and since he was so super shy she'd have to do the chasing. When she sat back down she kept hold of his hand. She caught his eye and this time he met her gaze without looking down. He still flushed a little but kept looking at her and smiled. She dug into her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, giving it to William. He looked at it - it was her full address.

"So you can send me a postcard from England." said Buffy quietly.

Dingoes came on stage to a loud cheer and Buffy turned around on her stool to face the stage. She kept hold of William's hand and pulled it to her front so he put his other arm round her, too. She leant back against his body as he stood behind her.

He still couldn't quite believe it was real, as he stood there, arms wrapped around the girl he'd admired from afar for so long. And he was flying to London for two months tomorrow afternoon, how ironic was that? On Monday he'd been so excited when he'd found out about the trip - the best thing that he thought could happen to him. Now on Friday he was almost wishing he wasn't going, or at least not for a couple of weeks, so he'd have chance to get to know Buffy a bit more.

But for now he contented himself to holding her, having her hair tickle his face, as they watched the band on stage. He certainly wasn't going to get on the dance floor to a fast song.

Willow could hardly contain herself when Oz was on stage, especially when he grinned at her and winked, his hair dyed just about the same colour red as her skirt! When the Dingoes finished their set Oz came to spend the rest of the evening with them.

"Hey Oz, you were great." said William. He couldn't think of anything more daunting than standing up on stage in front of a crowd of people.

"Thanks, Will, but we suck. Devon was off key most of the time." replied Oz.

"No you don't." countered Xander, "William's right, it was really good."

As Oz started to protest again, never satisfied by the band's performance, Buffy interrupted him.

"Oh for goodness sake, Willow, kiss him or something to shut him up." she joked, "Whatever you think of it, Oz, we all thought it was great."

Willow happily obliged with the kissing.

The DJ started to play again and when one particular song came on Buffy got off her stool.

"I love this one. I'm going to dance. Who's coming?"

Willow was the only one to move, the guys, perhaps wisely, deciding that the world wasn't ready to see them en masse on the dance floor just yet.

"Do you want another drink? Xander? Oz?" asked William.

"Yeah, thanks." said Xander.

"Please." said Oz.

William made his way to the bar and bought the drinks, as he turned back his path was blocked by Davey. The huge guy put a hand out and pushed William lightly on his chest.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Um, back to my friends." said William as boldly as he could.

"Your girlfriend, you mean?" sneered Davey.

"Er….yeah."

"Are you sure she's yours? Not just giving a little pity out to a loser like you, her good deed for the week?"

"No." said William, "It's not like that."

Davey looked over to the dance floor. William followed his gaze and his heart fell. Buffy was dancing with Angel. The quarterback had his arms around her, with her back against his chest.

"Angel bet her you wouldn't show, so she won. Wonder what's she's going to claim as her prize from him?" he laughed as Angel rubbed his hands over Buffy's body and kissed her neck.

William couldn't see her face but he'd seen enough. He'd thought it had been too good to be true. He should have known - why would someone like Buffy suddenly decide to be his friend? He dropped the plastic cups holding the drinks he'd just bought, contents spilling over the floor, and he pushed past Davey, heading to the exit as quickly as he could.

Oooooo

"Get off me, you ape!" screamed Buffy, wriggling to free herself from Angel's clutches. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Aw c'mon, you know you like it." said Angel, leaning down and kissing her neck.

"Ugh! Get your hands off of me!" she yelled.

"Think she wants you to leave her alone." said a voice from behind them.

Angel spun around, still holding onto Buffy.

"What's it to you?" growled Angel.

"Because that's my friend and she's not wanting the affections of you." said Xander

Angel glanced over at his pal Davey, who nodded. He let go of Buffy, mission accomplished. Pratt had left the building.

"Sorry, thought you were enjoying it, Buffy," sneered Angel. "My mistake." He grinned at Davey and walked towards him.

"You okay Buff?" asked Xander.

Buffy had seen the look pass between the two thugs and suddenly knew what it had been about.

"Where's William?" she asked anxiously.

"He went for drinks, he'll be back with Oz by n…." his voice trailed off as he saw Oz standing on his own.

Buffy stormed up to Angel, grabbing his arm.

"Oh, so you were enjoying it then?" laughed Angel and leaned down to kiss her again.

She slapped his face as hard as she could.

"What have you done?" she shouted at him.

"Why you little bitch." He snarled, moving towards her menacingly. His friend Davey had to put a restraining hand on him.

"Cool it, Angel." he said.

Angel shrugged off his hand.

"I got rid of your little friend Pratt." said Angel.

"What did you say to him?"

"I didn't say anything at all." said Angel with a smirk, "But Davey here might have led him to believe that you and me had a little bet as to whether or not you could get the freak to come out with you or not."

"You evil pig." She turned and ran towards the exit.

"Where are you going?" called Willow.

"That pig Davey told William I'd only been with him tonight for a bet. I've got to find him to explain."

"It's really late, Buff. You can go round tomorrow. You said he didn't really like you going round to his house the other day, it might make things even worse if you go round so late."

"They can't be worse, Will, he's flying to England tomorrow for the summer. I can't let him go thinking I was that cruel. I really like him, Will." replied Buffy, tears glistening in her eyes.

"He's going to England? Why didn't he tell us? How cool is that? I wonder if he'll go to the British Museum? See the Tower of London?" said Willow excitedly.

"Willow, can we have some focus here?" snapped Buffy.

"Oh, sorry, what time does he leave?"

"The flight's at three thirty." replied Buffy.

"Well, you'll have time to go round in the morning. Leave him tonight, Buff, your mom's expecting you back home in ten minutes. She'll ground you for the summer if you're late again."

"Okay, I guess I'd better not go." sighed Buffy as Xander and Oz joined them.

Willow explained what had happened.

"God, it's about time that Angel got some comeuppance. He just does what ever he wants." said Xander.

The four of them went outside and got into Oz's van. He dropped Buffy off just before her curfew, then Willow and Xander got out at their homes, which were next door to each other,and then Oz drove himself home. The mood was pretty quiet, each thinking about William.

Oooooo

William was halfway home before he stopped running. He leant back against a wall gasping for breath. He thought of their dance, her kiss, her back leaning against him holding his hands when Oz was on stage. Had that all been an act? Was she really so horrible?

He started to regret rushing out of The Bronze without confronting her, but he'd never done anything but avoid confrontations since he was eight.

"God, I hate Angel!" he shouted, as he hit the wall with his fist in frustration, grazing his knuckles.

He glanced at his watch. It was too late to go back - he'd just have to see her tomorrow before he left for the airport.

To be continued…..


	5. Chapter 5

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: Merely the plot is my own!

**Chapter Five**

His hand was on the door handle just about to open it when his mom called him.

"William, where are you going?"

"Um. I just…er…wanted to see Buffy before I left." said William.

"I'm sorry, honey," she replied. "You won't have time - the cab will be here soon to take us to the airport."

"But we don't fly for hours!" complained William. "How come we're going so early? Can't we get a different cab later on?"

His mom looked at him and smiled. Her William looked like he was smitten with this girl - she'd be good for him.

"I know it's hard, love, going away when you've just made some new friends but I can't change the cab. It's the cheapest I could find and it's the only time they could come. I'm trying to save as much money for when we're in England as I can."

His hand fell from the handle and he turned around. He leant his back on the door for a moment, then smiled back at his mom - it wasn't her fault.

"Okay, Mom."

Half an hour later and they were on their way to the airport. William didn't notice a small blonde figure walking round the corner behind them as the cab pulled away.

Oooooooo

Buffy saw the cab drive away from in front of William's house.

"No! Wait!"

She sprinted after it but it was too late. The cab picked up speed and disappeared out of sight. Disconsolate, she walked home. She'd barely slept - just tossed and turned, worrying how William was. He must hate her. God, what a mess! All because of Angel.

When she got home she went into the kitchen and picked up the telephone.

"Who are you calling?" asked her mom.

"Oz. I need to see if he'll drive me to the airport." replied Buffy, starting to dial.

Her Mom put her hand on the phone, severing the connection.

"No, you're not, Buffy." she said firmly. "You've got to help me at the gallery today, you know that."

"But Mom, I've got to see William before he goes to England."

"You didn't say your goodbyes last night?" asked her Mom with a smile.

"No, Angel sort of messed things up and William left. I went to his house but they'd already gone to the airport. Mom, I can't let him go away thinking I'd been dancing with Angel." said Buffy, opting for the shortest version of the story she could.

"_The life of a teenager is so intense. Thank goodness it doesn't last too long." _thought her mom.

"Sorry honey, but I can't manage without you today. You know Paula's on vacation. I'm sure he'll call you."

Buffy opened her mouth to say something but one look at her mom's face told her it would be pointless. It was going to be a long summer.

Ooooooooo

William and his mom sat in the airport. They'd wandered around the shops and his mom had bought him a paperback novel to read on the plane and a couple of magazines for herself. She started to look a bit edgy. William took a bottle of orange juice out of his bag.

"Here, Mom, I brought you some juice." He held it out to her.

"_It's not juice I need" _thought his mom, _"I was stupid to think I could do this."_

But she took the bottle from her son and took a sip. She opened her eyes wide when she tasted it, and looked at her son. He held her gaze for a moment before looking down and fiddling with the straps of his bag.

"Thank you, William." she said softly, taking another sip of the vodka laced juice.

"'S okay." said William, knowing she'd need some alcohol to get her through the day and deciding it was best to have some ready for her rather than risk her starting to buy it in the airport or on the plane.

Eventually it was time to board. William, despite wishing he'd been able to see Buffy, couldn't help but feel excited. His first time on a plane and he was going all the way to England!

Being at the airport early had had its advantages as he'd been allocated a window seat. He turned to his mom and grinned. She smiled back at him and gave him a little hug. He didn't tense up, just hugged her back.

"_Yes, this trip could mark a real change in our lives."_ she thought, _"Things are going to get better for both of us."_

Ooooooooo

The plane began its descent into London. William's stomach started to have butterflies. What if his cousin didn't like him? What if he was like Angel? He glanced at his mother. She was nervously straightening her hair and smoothing down her clothes and he knew she was as nervous as he was, probably more so. He tentatively took her hand, watching her carefully to make she didn't mind him doing it.

"You'll be fine, Mom." he said. "I love you."

She squeezed his hand tightly and fought back tears. After all she'd put him through, he could still say that to her.

"I love you too, honey."

Oooooooo

After waiting seemingly for hours for their baggage to come through, they made their way through the door and into the Arrivals Hall, both scanning the crowds to see if they could spot their relations.

William spotted his Aunt Julia before his mom did. He hadn't seen her for years but she looked so like his mom he couldn't mistake her. Both women, even having spent years apart and barely communicating at times, wore their hair in similar styles. When William got closer he saw she looked a little younger than his mom, with fewer wrinkles on her face - and slimmer too. He realised that this is how his mother would have looked if life hadn't beat her down, the alcohol taking its toll on her looks.

"Jayne! William!" Julia called, waving at them.

They made their way over and William caught his first sight of his cousin James. He stopped dead.

"Bloody 'ell!" said James.

"Language." said Julia.

"Um." said William.

"I never realised they were so alike." exclaimed Jayne, William's mom.

They all stared until William flushed and started to look uncomfortable.

"Come on, let's get to the car and get home. You both must be shattered after the flight." said Julia.

James grinned at William.

"Ere mate, gimme yer bag, an' yours too, Aunt Jayne." said James, and the four of them made their way to the car.

A few people looked at them as they walked along. The women were obviously twins but the boys were also remarkably similar. Same vivid blue eyes, sandy brown hair, though James' was quite short and William's was a bit longer and more tousled. James was perhaps an inch taller than William but that may have been the way he held himself. He walked tall, almost with a swagger, oozing confidence. William tended to hold himself a little stooped since he was so used to trying not to call attention to himself. Their build differed only in that James looked like he worked out - he had a hard, leaner edge to him.

"We could 'ave some right fun wi' this." said James, eyes dancing as the boys sat in the rear seat of the car.

"What do you mean?" asked William.

"Well you'd 'ave to get yer 'air cut, but I reckon we could pass for each other." He reached out and pulled William's spectacles off his nose.

"Hey!" said William, trying to grab them back.

"'S okay, you can 'ave 'em back. Just wanted to see yer without 'em." He grinned, passing them back to William. "Course I'm better lookin'."

James' grin was infectious and William grinned back an almost identical one.

"Don't be so sure."

The two women exchanged a 'look' when they heard the boys chatting away in the back. Seems their worries about them getting on together were unfounded.

To be continued……


	6. Chapter 6

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Chapter Six 

They'd been in London for two weeks and things had settled into a comfortable routine. At first both William and his mom, Jayne, had been very aware of everything they did and said, being careful to be on their best behaviour and not wanting to cause any inconvenience. But now they'd started to relax and feel more at home in Julia and Thomas' house. They stopped asking if they could get a drink or a snack and started just to help themselves.

William still remained shy when around his Uncle Thomas; he felt a little nervous of him although he knew there was no reason to be. He reminded him a bit of his dad, well, of what he could remember of him. He was tall and fair-haired but there the similarity ended. William had no recollection of his father being anything but harsh, drunk and aggressive. Thomas was the total opposite - warm, kind, quick to smile and laid back to the point of driving his wife crazy! He was only around in the evenings and at weekends, as he had to go to work each day. In two weeks time he'd booked a week's vacation so he could join the others on their days out.

Ooooooo

Before Jayne and William's arrival, Julia had told James as much as she could about the problems William had been going through. She'd received that desperate letter from her twin a couple of months ago after several years of estrangement - her sister didn't have a telephone or computer so she couldn't contact her like that - and for years her letters remained unanswered. So Julia had just sent Jayne and William presents each birthday and Christmas hoping they'd get in touch.

The letter had been shocking to read. Her sister had obviously written it when she was drunk as it was a jumbled mess listing all of their troubles. Alcohol abuse was obviously Jayne's worst problem. Julia had hoped that things would have improved when Steven had been jailed but they'd obviously gotten even worse. She'd tried to help in the early days but it was hard if not downright impossible to help someone who didn't want to be helped.

It was for William that her heart really went out to - bullied remorselessly for years at school, subject to his mother's drunken rages at home, no friends to lean on. It was amazing he'd managed to keep up with his schoolwork at all, let alone be top of his year. Despite everything he still cared for his mother. Julia had been thrilled how well the boys had got on right from the start with James' confidence and happy-go-lucky nature rubbing off on William, who now smiled a lot more and fooled around with James, only reverting to his timid former self when Thomas was at home and Julia could guess the reason why.

Oooooo

The boys were up in James' room, which they were sharing, downloading some music onto an iPod that William had just been given.

"So wot sort o' stuff do yer like?" asked James.

"Um, well, I'm not really sure," said William.

"Aw c'mon, you've got to know some of wot yer like."

"I've never really listened to anything," replied William.

"Yer kiddin', right? How many CDs 'ave yer got? Yer must 'ave some favourites," insisted James.

"I haven't got any," said William quietly.

James looked at him.

_"Shit, Mum wasn't exaggerating when she'd said wot a crap life William had."_

"God. I'm sorry, mate," he said, "I tell yer wot, I'll put on all sorts o' stuff I like, listen to that for a week and then we can delete wot yer don't like and put on more o' wot yer do, that sound okay?"

"Yeah that'd be good, thanks," replied William.

James regarded his cousin for a minute or two then decided to bite the bullet.

"So wot's the score wiv you at school?"

"What do you mean?" said William, flushing and not meeting his eye.

"C'mon mate, yer can tell me, might 'elp to talk yer know," coaxed James.

"Ow's it gonna 'elp?" mimicked William, trying to disguise his embarrassment.

"Hey, that was really good," exclaimed James, "but no getting' out of it. C'mon, yer can tell me. I 'ad a bit o' trouble once wiv' bloke at school, so I know wot it can be like."

"What did you do?" asked William curiously.

"Hit the bleeder across the classroom one day. Dunno who was more shocked, 'im, me or the teacher!" laughed James.

"What happened after that?" asked William, eyes wide.

"I got suspended from school for a week. Mum and Dad went mental. I broke a bone in me 'and but he never even looked sideways at me again."

"I don't think I could ever do that to Angel," said William, "He's huge."

"The bigger they are the 'arder they fall, mate," said James, "'An Angel? Wot sort o' name is that? Sounds like a bleeding poofter if you ask me."

"You haven't seen him," said William, "He just never gives me a break."

He went on to tell James about what life was like at school, hesitantly at first then finding that James was right - it did help to talk about it. James couldn't believe his ears, the poor guy went through hell everyday.

"Was it 'im who did that?" he asked, pointing at William's eye, although now ok it had still been visibly bruised when he'd arrived.

"No." He looked James in the eye for what seemed like an age then added, "No, that was my mom. She didn't mean it, just sometimes she gets a bit, well, a bit upset when she drinks too much."

"Soddin' 'ell, Will, do yer ever 'ave any fun?" asked James.

"Um, I did see a band play the night before I flew over here - Dingoes Ate My Baby," said William.

"Great name! Were they any good? Who did yer go wiv?"

William blushed.

"Just a couple of friends."

"Yer can't fool me, one of 'em's a girl, right?"

"Yeah, but Angel messed that up too," replied William with a sigh, as he told the whole story.

"I'm sorry, Will, but I 'onestly can't believe you fell for that. 'Course she wasn't dancing wiv' the git, they set you up."

"I know, but I just panicked I suppose. I couldn't believe she liked me, so it was easy to think Davey was telling the truth," replied William.

"Why wouldn't this, wot's 'er name, Buffy, like yer?" asked James, "I mean yer a good lookin' fella." He grinned at William. "Yer must be 'cause yer look like me! So are yer gonna call her up then?"

"No, God no!" said William, "I couldn't do that." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. He'd kept it in the pocket of whichever jeans he wore ever since she'd given it to him. "I've got her address - I was going to send her a card but now I'm not so sure."

"Yer've got to send 'er one! C'mon, let's go find something to send 'er," said James.

William followed James downstairs.

"Mum, we're off out, be back for dinner, okay?" shouted James as he opened the front door.

"That's fine, have fun, boys, but be back by six."

"Will do," replied James.

Ooooooo

The two boys walked along the road, then hopped onto a tube train to get to a bigger selection of shops than in the leafy suburbs where James lived.

"Why have we come here? Couldn't we just have got a card at that shop on the corner? asked William.

"Yeah, we could've, but I've got a couple of other things I want to do, if yer up for it?" said James.

"Oh no, what are you planning?"

"Well yer know 'ow I said we could 'ave some fun wiv 'ow alike we look?"

William nodded.

"Well, I think we need to put it into practice."

They stopped outside a barber's shop.

"I can't get my 'air to grow overnight. Wot do yer reckon about 'aving yours cut?"

"Won't the fact I wear glasses sort of give the game away?" countered William.

"'Ow blind are yer wiv out 'em? Could yer 'andle a party wiv out wearing 'em?"

"Yeah, I'd be okay for that, I think," said William, thinking how it would make a nice change to be the one playing the tricks.

So in they went and a short time later out came the two boys, now sporting identical haircuts. They were laughing as they hit the street. The barber had asked them if they were twins, so William had mimicked James' accent and he'd believed them when they said they were.

"Yer good at the old accent," said James, "'Ow are yer at being a bit bad?"

"What are you thinking of now?" asked William. He'd soon realised that James was always up to something.

"Yer can 'elp me out, Will," said James, "I've wanted to do this for ages but I reckon if we both do it at least the heat will be spread between the two of us. I know me mum won't 'ave a go at yer."

"What _are_ you going on about?"

"I want us both to get a tat," said James.

"A what?"

"A tat, yer know, a tattoo."

"God, James, I dunno about that. I don't want to get in trouble, anyway aren't we too young?" protested William.

"Dunno but if we are we can lie! C'mon, Will, live a little! I'll pay. Yer can show Buffy when yer get back 'ome," urged James.

"Well I suppose we could just go and have a look," said William.

"Great stuff," said James, "It's just down 'ere. We can get a card on the way and decide wot to say while we're 'aving 'em done."

William had no intention of getting a tattoo done. He was sure his mother would freak and equally sure he'd get more grief from Angel than ever if he saw it, so he was quite surprised when a couple of hours later the pair had emerged, both with sore spots on the top of their right arms where a tattoo had been drawn. They'd both had the same design, a tribal marking that meant bravery/valour. James decided that having such a mark might inspire William to stand up for himself a bit more, plus it looked wicked cool! He'd made William have his done first, certain that he'd bottle out if he'd had to wait.

They'd had some fun deciding what to write on the postcard to Buffy, William flatly refusing to get a jokey card and instead selecting a rather boring one of Buckingham Palace.

"Yer could've at least got one of the statue of Eros, that's a landmark too and would give 'er a hint that yer like 'er," James had joked.

"No, this one will be fine," replied William.

"Fine? That's hardly wot yer should be aiming for to woo the girl of yer dreams!"

"Shut up, James." William gave his cousin a playful thump on his arm.

Eventually they'd settled for the not very original 'having a great time, seen lots of the sights already' followed by, at James' insistence, 'sorry I left The Bronze without talking to you, missing you. Phone me?' and then James' home number. He just put his name at the bottom, omitting the 'love, William' that James wanted him to put.

They walked to the post box and William stood there, card in hand, psyching himself up to post it.

"Aw, for God's sake, mate!" said James, snatching it and putting it in the box.

"James!"

"Wot? Yer were gonna post it eventually, this way we're not late for dinner!"

to be continued……..


	7. Chapter 7

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Thanks to the Kaiser Chiefs for the lyrics from Ruby Ruby (changed a little to fit the story) Check them out on youtube if you don't know them!!

**Chapter Seven**

The boys arrived home to be greeted by the delicious smells of dinner wafting from the kitchen. They went to investigate.

"Hi boys, just in the nick of time," said Julia, "Oh William, you've cut your hair," she added when she saw him.

"Um, yeah," said William.

"Let's take a look at you." said his mom, "It suits you, love; it makes the two of you look even more alike."

"That's the plan. Aunt Jayne," grinned James.

"Don't you be getting William into any mischief," warned Julia, "I know what you're like. Don't let him talk you into anything you don't want to do, William. He can be very persuasive."

"I won't," he replied, flushing a little at the thought of his new tattoo.

"Here," said Jayne, handing the boys some cutlery and place mats, "Go and set the table, dinners just about ready."

"Give your dad a shout, James," added Julia.

Dinner was a relaxed affair. William's mom had been cutting down the amount of liquor she drank each day and although not yet strong enough to go without any, she was never 'drunk'. Consequently, William relaxed more as he didn't have to worry about her behaviour.

"Why don't yer get contact lenses?" James asked William.

"I …er…never really thought about it," replied William, which wasn't entirely true, he'd love lenses, one less thing to be picked on about if he didn't wear glasses. But they were too expensive - he'd never asked his mom for them.

"You ought to, shouldn't he, Mum?" said James.

"You could look into getting some, William. You can get those disposable ones now, so you don't have to keep washing them. Your birthday's coming up, isn't it? Perhaps we can all put together and get them for you?" said Julia, correctly guessing that money may be an issue and deciding there and then that if William wanted some she'd buy a year's supply for him. Hopefully after that Jayne would be back on her feet and able to keep a job; it would make life much easier for the pair of them.

"What do you think, Mom?" William asked, looking at her.

"That sounds like a good plan, William, if you'd like to try them." She smiled knowing he'd checked with her because he was worried about the cost.

"Thanks, then, that'd be cool," he replied, feeling excited at the prospect.

After dinner the boys went up to James' room for him to do his schoolwork. He'd had permission to miss the last three weeks of term as long as he e-mailed in the work his teachers had set. His parents had managed to convince the head teacher to allow this, explaining about the family problems they were trying to sort out.

"Are yer any good at English?" asked James with a grimace when he saw what he had to do that night.

"I am, but I'm not doing it for you," said William with a smile.

"That's so mean," complained James, "'Ere I am givin' yer a room to sleep in, roof over yer 'ead for the summer, not to mention the bonus of my company at all times and yer won't cheat an assignment for me. I dunno wot the world's comin' to."

"You know your mom said I can't help you," said William in response, "Yer can do it, yer just lazy," mimicked William, sounding just like James.

James grinned at William and threw a pen at him; it missed.

"Still not fair."

"Stop moaning and get it done," said William, "I'll help if you get stuck."

William dug into his bag and pulled out a battered notepad. He sat on the camp bed that had been put in the room for him to sleep on and wriggled until his back was resting against the wall. He pulled his knees up, rested the pad on them and started scribbling away.

James focused his attention to his studies and with a couple of pointers from William finished it and e-mailed it to his teacher. When he'd turned his computer off he looked round to see William still intent on whatever he was writing. He sneaked across the room and snatched it out of William's hands.

"Hey, give me that back!" cried William.

"Just want to take a look see," said James, avoiding William's efforts to get it back.

"Don't! It's private," said William in desperation.

His cousin stopped and looked at him, realising this was the sort of thing he had to put up with from that git Angel at school. He was just about to give it back but couldn't resist a glance.

"Let it never be said

That romance is dead,

'Cause there's so little else

Occupying my head.

There is nothing I need

Except the function to breathe,

But I'm not really fussed

Doesn't matter to me."

"Hey," said James, "I thought yer weren't into music, so 'ow come yer're writin' song lyrics?"

"Lyrics?" said William, "What do you mean? It's poetry. Go on, have a good laugh."

"Why should I laugh? A song is just a poem with music attached! Got any more? Yer should get that mate o' yours, wot's 'is name, Oz, to put it to music."

William was so amazed not to have the piss taken about it that he stopped trying to get the book back. James, seeing that William had stopped protesting, carried on reading.

"Buffy, Buffy, do you know what you're doing, doing to me?

Due to lack of interest

Tomorrow is cancelled.

Let the clocks be reset

And the pendulums held,

'Cause there's nothing at all

Except the space in between

Finding out what you're called

And repeating your name.

Buffy, Buffy could it be that you're joking with me

And you don't really see you and me?

"Bleedin' 'ell mate, wish I could do this." said James.

William looked at him carefully; he seemed sincere.

"It's not very good," said William dismissively.

"It'd make a great song. Just change Buffy's name to something else 'cause it'd be way too embarrassing to be singing it wiv 'er name in it," said James animatedly.

"Singing? You're the only one who'll even read it! There'll be no singing, I can't," said William.

"Can't? 'Ave yer ever tried?"

"Um…no," admitted William.

"So yer don't know yer can't, do yer? All the chicks love lads who are in bands, as long as it isn't the marching band type. Yer'll 'ave Buffy eatin' out of yer 'and, especially after she calls yer up when she gets the card," said James, "Can I 'ave a look at yer other stuff?"

William just nodded and watched as James flicked through his notepad. Song lyrics, it had to be said, sounded a lot cooler than poetry.

"When yer meet me mates I'm gonna tell 'em yer write songs, that I've got a cool song-writing cousin from America," announced James.

William had yet to meet any of James' friends as his parents had insisted that until term ended he just concentrate on getting to know William and getting his assignments done. School broke up in a few days time. William was a bit nervous about meeting his friends - it sounded like he had a lot - but if they were like James he'd be ok. He wished he had a friend like him back in the US, perhaps Xander or Oz might turn into real friends?

They were due to meet up with them at a party in a local club on Saturday to mark the end of term. That's where James wanted William to try to fool his friends into thinking he was James. So William kept practicing James' north London English accent. He tried to get James to do his Californian accent but he was rubbish at it, which William thought hilarious.

Ooooooo

The next day the boys and their mothers went to get William some contact lenses. He had his eyes tested and was told they'd be ready the next day. Whilst he was in the optician's his mom slipped out and into the book shop next door. She was back before William was ready to leave.

Ooooooo

Soon it was Saturday. James and William were pleased that their tattoos had settled down nicely and so could be showed off if required. So far their parents hadn't spotted them.

"Right, yer'll 'ave to wear a shirt that I've been seen in so people'll be more likely to think yer me," said James as he rummaged in his wardrobe and pulled out a t-shirt. It was black, sleeveless, and had 'Kaiser Chiefs' written across the chest in red lettering with the dates of their latest tour on the back.

"'Ere, put it on, lets 'ave a look," said James.

Obediently William pulled it over his head. He had the Kaiser Chiefs album on his iPod and liked their music.

"Black jeans, yer've got to 'ave black jeans."

"I've got some," said William, digging into his drawer to find them.

"Great, now wot'll make me look American?"

"Won't matter how American you look. If you say more than 'hi' they'll figure you out for sure," joked William, "Try this."

He passed James one of his most boring long sleeved shirts; even he didn't like it anymore.

"No way!" said James, "I've never seen yer wear that."

He looked at William's collection of shirts and decided on the royal blue one that, unbeknownst to him, William had worn to The Bronze the day before he left for London.

"Ok, I'll let you wear that one," conceded William.

"Wot jackets 'ave yer got?" asked James.

"Um…well only my denim one," said William.

"Ok, that'll do. God, you're gonna look so much cooler than me," said James.

He went back into his wardrobe and pulled out a long black leather jacket.

"I can't wear that!" said William in horror.

"Wot do yer mean? This is _the_ coolest coat in the world, took me ages to save up for it, but I luv it and I 'ope yer feel proper 'onoured to be allowed to wear it. Though it has to be said if anything 'appens to it, I'll 'ave to kill yer," joked James, putting it on and giving William a twirl. "See, tell me this ain't the ultimate cool."

William did think the jacket looked good but wasn't sure he could carry it off. When he said as much to James, he laughed and said that if it looked good on him it'd have to look good on William since the whole point of all this was because they were so alike. William tried it on. It felt great; it was quite heavy, the leather so soft it swayed as he moved. Without even realising it William held himself much taller in it than he usually did. He grinned at his reflection in the mirror and it really was like James grinned back at him. Weird and cool at the same time.

"Ready?" asked James.

"Ready." agreed William.

They walked downstairs and into the sitting room where their parents were watching TV.

"We're off then," said William, mimicking James' voice.

"Have fun and remember to give me a ring if you want a lift home," said Thomas.

"Will do, c'mon mate," said William with a grin and they turned to leave.

"Hang on. Haven't you got a kiss for your mothers?" said Thomas with a smile trying to embarrass the boys.

Dutifully the boys went and kissed their mothers, James kissed Jayne and William, Julia.

"What's going on?" asked Julia, looking hard at the two boys, "Can't remember the last time you kissed me, James, without pulling a face afterwards."

"Uh oh, we're rumbled." said James, "Should've told yer about that."

The boys collapsed into fits of laughter, their parents soon joined in too.

"So you're planning on creating havoc at the party then?" said Jayne, delighted to see her son having such fun and being confident enough to play practical jokes. James was really bringing him out of his shell.

"That's the plan," gasped William.

The boys pulled themselves together and set off to go to the club.

Ooooooo

Buffy stomped home from yet another day helping out at the gallery. She felt like she was spending all her vacation stuck in there with her mom, she was thoroughly fed up of it. The only plus side was that her mom was actually paying her for it, albeit at slave labour rates, so she could look forward to a good day's shopping before term started.

Her mom was away for the next couple of days on a trip to source new stock for the gallery. Paula, the second in command, had let Buffy leave at lunchtime and she was looking forward to Willow coming over to watch some 'girly' movies and eat lots of popcorn and ice cream.

She was nearly home when it started to rain. Soon it was really heavy and she was soaked through before she got to the house despite running since she didn't have a jacket with her. She got the mail from the box as she passed it and held it close to her to try to keep it dry.

Once inside she put the letters on the kitchen table and ran upstairs to get changed before she left puddles everywhere. She showered, got dressed and dried her hair. She'd just finished when she heard the door open and Willow come in.

"Buffy! Are you upstairs?" she called.

"Yeah, just coming down, got soaked," Buffy replied, rushing downstairs to greet her best friend. She had to smile, Willow was wearing a white raincoat with multi coloured spots all over it and a matching hat.

"You're better prepared than I was," said Buffy.

"Had them for ages, just been waiting for the chance to wear them," replied Willow, pulling out several DVDs from their voluminous pockets. "Hope you got the popcorn and ice cream?"

"I sure do, I'll pop it in the microwave," said Buffy, "Did you hear that I said I'll just pop it…"

"I heard the first time," interrupted Willow with a smile, "I didn't want to dignify it with a comment. So lame!"

She followed Buffy into the kitchen, whilst Buffy was getting the popcorn out of a cupboard she noticed the pile of letters on the table - they were all wet. She separated them to help them dry out and spotted a postcard of Buckingham Palace.

"Hey Buff, have you seen you've got a card from William?"

"I have?" said Buffy, popcorn forgotten.

"You have unless you know anyone else in London?" replied Willow. She passed Buffy the card with a grin.

Buffy turned it over eagerly, "Having a good time blah blah," she said reading it aloud, "Oh! He says he's sorry for leaving The Bronze without talking to me. He says he's missing me." She beamed at her friend, "He's put on a telephone number!"

"See, I told you he wouldn't believe you were dancing with Angel, or had set him up," said Willow. Buffy had been insufferable on the subject of William since he left; hopefully this would cheer her up a bit.

"What time is it in London?" asked Buffy, looking up at the kitchen clock.

"They're eight hours in front of us I think," said Willow, "It's twelve thirty here so it must be eight thirty p.m. over there."

"That's not too late to call, is it? Can I call now?"

"Yes, you can call now."

"Great!" Buffy reached for the phone after looking up the international code for England. She started to press the numbers on the dial, "Oh no!" she cried.

"What?" said Willow, going over to her.

"I can't make out the last two numbers - they're smudged."

"Let me look. I think it's 58, don't you?"

Buffy peered at them, "Yeah, that could be it." She pressed the last two numbers on the keypad and heard the phone starting to ring.

"Hello?" a woman's voice.

"Uh, hello, can I speak to William please?" asked Buffy.

"I'm sorry, pet, you must have the wrong number, there's no William here."

"Oh, ok, sorry," said Buffy hanging up, "Well it's not 58."

So they tried 56, 68, 38, and 36, all with the same response.

When Buffy tried 53 at the end, when she asked for William, she was told to wait a moment. Her heart was racing as she waited for him to pick up the receiver. Her heart sank when the voice wasn't the William she wanted but an elderly Englishman. She hung up dejectedly.

"It's hopeless, Willow, there are too many combinations that it could be. I'm not even convinced that the third to the last digit is a nine either, it could be a seven. I'm jinxed! I'm never going to get to be with William at this rate."

"On the bright side, it's only five weeks until he'll be back," said Willow.

"That's ages!" said Buffy, "Where's the ice cream? I need ice cream!"

to be continued….


	8. Chapter 8

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: only the plot is truly mine!

Lyrics to Born in the USA are obviously by Bruce Springsteen - hope you don't mind boss?

Chapter Eight 

The plan when they got to the party was that they'd stick close together so James could tell William who everybody was. They'd barely walked in to the place before a dark haired boy came up to them.

"James, mate, how yer doin'? This your cous'?"

"That's Neil," whispered James.

"Hi Neil, yeah, mate, I'm ok. Meet William. William, me mate Neil."

"Hi," said James quietly.

"Don't worry about 'im, 'e's just a bit shy," said William with a grin. Pretending to be James was great fun, concentrating on mimicking his voice left him no time to be shy himself. "See yer later, just need to get a drink." he added as James tugged at his sleeve.

"What?" said William when they were out of earshot.

"Don't want to get stuck wiv 'im all night," replied James, "Borin' git," he added in explanation.

They made their way further into the club - the music was loud, the dance floor already crowded. James tapped William on his arm.

"Biggest test yer'll 'ave, me best mate Richard. Rich, ask 'im 'ow 'is bird is."

Richard spotted them across the dimly lit club and came over. William noticed how James held himself a little stooped, not standing tall like he normally did. With a shock he realised James was reproducing his own body language.

"_Christ, that looks pathetic,"_ thought William, making a mental note to stand up straight from now on.

"Wotcha James, God it's been ages, lucky bleeder missin' last three weeks o' term."

"Alright Rich, this 'ere's me cous' William." The lads nodded to each other, James not daring to speak as he was having trouble keeping a straight face. "So Rich, 'ow's yer bird?" asked William, thankfully knowing he was talking about his girlfriend.

"God, mate, 'ow long yer got? Driving me bleedin' mad, keep tryin' to finish it but it don't seem to register wiv 'er. Want a drink? The usual?"

William nodded, then looked to James, "E'll 'ave the same, too," he said, knowing James was about to crack.

By the time Rich got back with the drinks the game was up, they just couldn't stop laughing.

"Can't believe yer 'ad me fooled, yer right pair o' gits." said Rich, joining in their laughter and handing them a beer each.

William raised his eyebrows at James when they were given them.

"Can drink from eighteen 'ere. Rich 'as got a fake ID, plus he looks old!" said James, earning himself a thump from Rich.

William sipped at his beer slowly, not really liking the taste. He'd never drunk alcohol before, seeing the effect it had on his parents putting him off trying it. He managed to 'lose' it on a table when he'd only drunk about a quarter. James headed off to the loo, Rich went for more drinks, this time with James' money, and William asked for a Coke instead, which earned him a bit of a sideways look from Rich, then a shrug. He was standing there alone when a girl marched up to him. She was almost as tall as he was, with long black hair. Her clothes looked like they'd been made for someone shorter than she was, her midriff bare and the skirt barely covering her ass. She was pretty in an over made up kind of way.

"So why didn't you return my calls, you sod? Surely your little bloody cousin doesn't keep you so busy you can't ring?"

William opened his mouth to speak.

"Or e-mail? I know you had to send your work by e-mail, too bloody busy to drop a line to me?"

"Um," said William eventually.

"Um?" she snapped, "Three weeks of nothing and you say 'um'."

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed James returning but when he saw the girl he doubled back and disappeared.

"_Thanks, James."_

"Well? What have you got to say for yourself?"

"You've got the wrong person," said William, this time emphasising his American accent, "I'm the little bloody cousin."

The girl just looked at William open mouthed. He caught sight of James again and shouted to him.

"James! Think I need an introduction."

James sheepishly made his way over to them.

"God, I ought to slap you," said the girl.

"Nah, pet, yer wouldn't do that to me now, would yer?" he smiled his most charming smile, which the girl promptly slapped.

"Ow! Bloody 'ell, Lucy, that's bang out of order."

"Why didn't you call?" asked Lucy.

"I told yer why before I left school. I'm busy this summer and don't want to be bogged down wiv anyone."

"Bogged down? Is that what you think? Well, you'll not be bogged down now; we're finished." And with that Lucy turned on her heel and disappeared into the crowd.

"Oh, thank God fer that," said James, "Went better than I anticipated."

"That was better than you thought it'd be?" exclaimed William, "I'd hate to see it when it goes worse."

"C'mon, let's forget about 'er, right pain in the arse. I'm free! That's cause for celebration. Wot are yer 'aving?" he asked as Rich returned with the drinks.

"Coke, not big with the drinking," said William.

"Oh right, well, as long as yer don't mind me if I 'ave some?" said James.

William missed the little wink that Richard gave James as he passed the Coke to him.

Ooooooo

A few hours later the DJ stopped playing and people started getting up to sing to backing tracks.

"I forgot there was karaoke tonight," said James.

"Karry whattie?" asked William.

"Karaoke, it's where you pick a song and sing along to it, it's a right laugh, you gonna 'ave a go?"

"God, no!" said William, "Not a chance."

"_We'll see about that,"_ thought James.

Sure enough, an hour later Rich and James pushed a still rather reluctant William onto the stage. The DJ announced him.

"Ok, guys, this is Spike, all the way from California and he's going to sing 'Born in the USA'."

"Spike?" queried William.

James grabbed the microphone off its stand.

"E's called Spike 'cause we 'ad to 'spike' his drink with vodka before e'd get on stage!"

Everybody laughed and he passed the mic to William.

The music started and for a second William froze, then he just remembered how easy it'd been to pretend to be James so he took a deep breath, forgot about being William and concentrated on the song. He hardly needed to read the words as it was a track James had put on his iPod.

"Born down in a dead man's town

The first kick I took was when I hit the ground."

He started a little shakily but by the end everyone was listening to him. His voice was amazing even over the slightly 'tinny' sounding PA system.

"I'm a long gone Daddy in the USA

Born in the USA

I'm a cool rocking Daddy in the USA

Born in the USA."

He stopped, the song over, and was greeted with silence.

"_Crap, was I that bad?" _he thought, starting to blush.

Then everyone started to cheer and clap. As he walked off the stage James grabbed him and slapped his shoulder.

"Bleedin' 'ell, yer good, Spike! Yer've got to keep it up when you get back 'ome. Christ, I wish I could sing like that, or at all, truth be told. I 'ave been known to clear a place if I get 'old of the mic."

"Was I really ok?" asked William.

"Look around, yer the best in the place. I know it's not much of a compliment but seriously, mate, yer good, yer really good. C'mon Spike, let's get another drink."

"Ok, but no more spiking Spike's drink, I don't wanna be drunk in front of my mom when she's trying to quit," said William.

"Shit, sorry, I never thought," said James, sobering a little.

"'S alright, just don't want anymore that's all. I'd probably just end up being sick anyway."

The DJ started to play songs again and the dance floor once again was crowded. They managed to find a sofa to sit on at the back of the club and sat there chatting with Rich until it was time to go home.

"Was great to finally meet yer, Spike. Think we're gonna 'ave some fun this summer." said Rich.

"Same 'er," mimicked William with a grin.

Once outside James called his dad for a lift home and they sat on a wall waiting for his arrival.

"All right lads?" said Thomas as he pulled up next to them, "Had a good time?"

"Yeah, was great, Dad," said James, climbing in, "yer ought to 'ere William sing, 'e's bloody amazin'."

"Is that so? Jayne never told us you could sing, William."

"I didn't know I could until tonight," admitted William. He still couldn't believe he'd done it, stood on a stage in front of a crowd and sang! Was it only three weeks ago that he was in awe of Oz being able to do it? Mind you, the vodka had certainly played a part in getting him on stage in the first place. He didn't think he would've managed it sober.

To be continued ….


	9. Chapter 9

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: the plot is my own, nothing else is.

Chapter Nine 

Two weeks had passed in seemingly the blink of an eye to William; he'd had a great time. Rich, James' best friend, had proven to be as good company as James was and the three of them had been practically inseparable. The only cloud over William's happiness was the fact that Buffy hadn't called him. He hadn't said much to James about it but he felt hurt. He'd really believed she'd call after talking the whole 'Angel' scenario out with James. Now he was dreading the end of the summer, wishing he could stay in England with James. He'd been accepted wherever he went without feeling any awkwardness at all, feeling much more confident in himself. He didn't want to end up back at Sunnydale High with Angel picking on him all the time again, especially since it looked like Buffy didn't want anything to do with him.

Today was his birthday and since his uncle Thomas had gotten the week off work the five of them were going to go out for the day. They were gathered in the dining room for a traditional full English breakfast to start their day and to give William his presents.

His Aunt Julia and Uncle Thomas had bought him a laptop computer. They all laughed at his face when he opened the parcel. He glanced at his mom to make sure she was ok about him getting such an expensive present; she smiled at him to reassure him it was fine.

When he opened his mom's present he realised why she'd been so happy about it, she'd promised him a year's Internet access.

"That's great, now we can keep in touch really easily," said James.

"Here, William, there's another part to your present," said his mom, handing him another brightly wrapped parcel.

He took it from her and opened it. He had to blink back tears when he saw it, it was a new hard back copy of Pride and Prejudice. He opened the front cover where his Mom had written in the first page, 'To William, for putting up with me, all my love, Mom x'. He swallowed hard before thanking her; he gave her a hug and a kiss.

"'Ere mate, enough o' that," joked James, handing him another present.

William opened it and grinned at his cousin.

"Cheers, mate," he said, this time not even realising he was copying his cousin. It had been weeks since he'd heard another American accent and his inbuilt compulsion to blend in meant he almost sounded English himself. The present was a set of speakers for his iPod.

Once the breakfast things were cleared up, they all got their coats and made their way to the large 'people carrier' that Thomas had hired for the week so that the five of them travelling together wouldn't be such a squeeze.

"Oh James, you're not wearing that today?" said Julia as she saw her son run down the stairs with his leather duster billowing out around him.

"Yeah I am, nuthin' wrong wiv this coat, Spike likes it, don't yer?" he replied looking to William for support. He'd called William nothing but Spike since the night of the Karaoke.

"I do, it's really cool," said William, remembering how good he'd felt when he'd worn it.

"All right then, if you must," sighed Julia, "but I'm not sure it's the most appropriate thing to wear walking round castles and such in the middle of summer."

The three of them walked out to the car together.

"I'm having the back seat!" said James, climbing into the rearmost seats of the seven-seater vehicle.

William and his mom sat in the second row, with Julia and Thomas in the front pair, Thomas behind the wheel. The boys immediately put in their ear-phones and started listening to their iPods, William's was now full of music he loved and since now he'd got his own computer he'd be able to access anything he wanted to download himself.

Ooooooo

Of all the places they visited that day William loved Bodium Castle the best. The medieval castle had a moat around it still full of water; its sense of history was tangible. James gently took the mickey out of William, saying he was a typical 'American' tourist, obsessed with anything old; William threatened to throw him in the moat.

Their visit was cut a little short by a sudden thunderstorm; they ran laughing back to the car through the torrential rain. James was the only one not soaking wet thanks to his duster that, despite the warmth of the day, he'd refused to take off.

William claimed the back seat for the journey home and stretched out, enjoying the extra space. He soon realised why James had given it up so easily - the heater didn't seem to reach back there at all and William was starting to feel pretty cold.

"Here, Spike, have this," said James, offering him the use of his duster, "It was cold enough back there on the way here and I wasn't wet."

"Cheers," said William, taking it and gratefully putting it on.

The weather was still awful as they hit the motorway heading for home. Thomas was concentrating hard and driving carefully with the windscreen wipers going as fast as they could.

"Do you boys want to finish off the sandwiches?" asked Julia, passing them to James.

"Want one?" James asked William.

"Yeah, what's left?" William unbuckled his seatbelt and knelt on the seat leaning over the rear of James' seat to peer into the sandwich box.

"Oh Christ!" screamed Thomas, as a bus they were overtaking suddenly veered into their path as one of its tyres blew out. The collision was unavoidable.

They ricocheted off it, their vehicle spinning around, and another car ploughed into them. The jolt threw William against the back window, his left shoulder hitting it with such force that the window shattered. He was flung out of the car as it spun out of control, landing with a sickening thud onto the shoulder of the road. His momentum sent him rolling head over heels part way down the grassy bank that bordered the road, before laying there in a crumpled heap like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

The combination of the slick wet road and poor visibility meant that vehicle after vehicle slammed into the now stationary cars and bus, some vehicles so badly mangled that they didn't even resemble cars anymore.

After the squeal of the tyres on the road as the drivers frantically tried to stop and the screech of metal against metal, for a few seconds there was silence until it was replaced by the cries and moans of those who were injured. People climbed out of their vehicles anyway they could, others were trapped in the wreckage of what had been their cars. Drivers who had managed to stop in time called the emergency services and tried to help the injured.

Eleven vehicles were involved in the crash: the bus that had caused it, a huge truck and nine cars of various shapes and sizes. Police and fire-fighters were first on the scene, swiftly followed by a fleet of ambulances. Paramedics worked efficiently, assessing the injuries of those trapped in the cars and the walking wounded. They prioritised which order the fire crews should cut people free from their vehicles and grimly had to count the tally of the dead, which numbered seven at the scene and was thought likely to rise as several more were severely injured.

Ooooooo

The last of the victims from the motorway pile-up was wheeled into the Accident and Emergency Unit at the nearest hospital. He was strapped to a 'back board', a collar around his neck and head taped to prevent it from moving and possibly causing further injury. He was unconscious and had a tube inserted down his windpipe at the scene to help maintain his breathing, as his face was badly bruised and the swelling was causing problems. The paramedics relayed what drugs he'd been given and then he was handed over to the hospital staff.

The team quickly assessed him and numerous x-rays were taken - his spine was intact. He was unstrapped from the board and the neck brace was removed so they could tend to his other injuries. He had a fracture of the skull and the next few days were critical. They needed to monitor any swelling that could cause pressure to build up in his skull and the brain to be damaged. His other injuries were a broken shoulder blade, broken left ankle and facial injuries - a broken nose, cheekbone, and a dislocated jaw. A gash stretched from the corner of his left eyebrow in a crescent shape around the outside edge of his eye and along the broken cheekbone underneath it. He was lucky to keep the eye. He remained unconscious and on a ventilator as he struggled to breath unaided, most probably due to the trauma around his face and throat.

Once his injuries were attended to he was taken up to the Intensive Care Unit - the next twenty-four hours or so were critical for him. He'd been stripped of his own clothes and dressed in a hospital gown. A nurse looked for identification and found it in the form of a travel card in his jacket pocket. She wrote his name on the top of his records – James Norman.

To be continued….


	10. Chapter 10

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Chapter Ten 

Rupert Giles woke to the sound of the telephone on the bedside table ringing shrilly. He fumbled for the light peering short-sightedly at the clock next to the phone – 2 a.m. His hand trembled as he picked up the receiver knowing this couldn't mean good news. He was suddenly wide-awake.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Giles? Mr. Rupert Giles?" said the voice at the other end of the phone. The accent was English like his own.

"Yes," he answered, his mouth dry.

"My name is Detective Sergeant Wilson of the London Metropolitan Police."

"Oh God, what's happened?" interrupted Rupert.

"I'm sorry to have to inform you over the telephone, sir, but I'm afraid I have to tell you that there has been an accident, a road traffic accident. Thomas and Julia Norman and Jayne and William Pratt were killed instantly."

"No, no, it can't be," said Rupert, hardly able to take it in, "James? What of James?"

"James Norman is in St Catherine's Hospital. He sustained multiple fractures and is unconscious. His condition is critical. The reason I'm calling you rather than have some of my colleagues go to your home is that the doctors recommend you get here as soon as you can. The accident happened yesterday afternoon. I'm afraid it has taken us this long to track down the next of kin. Is there anyone else you'd like me to call for you? Any other family?" asked DS Wilson gently. He hated this part of the job.

"Um, no, there is no other family," said Rupert, still reeling from what he'd been told, "I'll be there as quickly as I can, thank you."

"I can arrange with the New York PD to have a car come over to get you to the airport and help get you on the next available flight. Would you like me to do that, sir?"

"What? Um, yes, thank you, that's most kind," replied Rupert. New York had never felt so far away from London.

He put the receiver down and put his head in his hands. All his relatives wiped out in one blow, apart from James if he managed to survive. His sister Julia's husband Thomas had been adopted and his 'parents' had died years ago so he had no other family to notify. Jayne and William had been alone since Steven had died in prison, not having any contact after his death with his side of the family.

Rupert sat there regretting how little he'd seen of his younger sisters in the past ten years or so, everyone being busy with their own lives and his job taking him all over the world. Jayne had shut herself away with William refusing any contact for years but since she'd been in touch with Julia he'd planned to help them - only now he never would. He hadn't seen James since he was about twelve, when he'd spent a Christmas with them. Was that really five years ago?

He pulled himself together, got up, showered and quickly dressed. He threw a few things into an overnight bag. He'd just finished when there was a knock at his door. He opened it to see a uniformed officer standing there.

"Just letting you know we're here, sir," said the police officer, "Just come down when you're ready."

"I'm ready now, thank you," replied Rupert.

He locked up his apartment and went down into the waiting squad car. He was grateful he hadn't had to get a cab. The presence of the police meant he was on the next flight, travelling business class to London's Heathrow airport.

He sat there praying that James was strong enough to pull though.

Ooooooo

Rupert Giles leapt out of the taxi and made his way up to the ICU, where he'd been told that James was being cared for.

"James Norman," he said when he got to the ward. "I've come to see my nephew James Norman, the police told me he'd been brought here."

"Yes, he is, I'll get a doctor to come to speak with you," said the nurse, picking up a telephone.

"I need to see him now," insisted Rupert, "I've just flown in from New York, I need to see him please." He was terrified that he had died.

"Alright, I'll get the doctor to come to his bed. He can tell you everything you need to know. Just prepare yourself, he has been quite bashed about," she said gently as she led him to a curtained-off bed at the side of the ward.

Rupert stopped dead when he caught sight of James. His face was badly bruised, almost unrecognisable. The left eye was swollen completely shut and surrounded by a crescent shaped line of black sutures, the whole left side of his face was swollen and black and blue. The right side of his face was relatively unscathed but for a few small cuts and grazes. His left shoulder and arm had heavy bandaging on it, his left leg a plaster cast. His chest moved rhythmically as he breathed with the aid of a machine.

The nurse motioned Rupert to a chair near the bed and he sat in it gratefully.

"The doctor will be along shortly," she said. She knew the boy's parents, cousin and aunt had died in the crash so she looked carefully at the man as he sat down. He'd had a terrible shock and no doubt had spent the flight in a state of high anxiety. Shock could have a serious affect. Her heart went out to the two of them.

"Would you like me to bring you a cup of tea?" she added.

"Um, yes…er…thank you," said Rupert, his eyes still fixed on his nephew.

She quietly left to get it. A hot sweet drink would help a little.

"Oh Lord, James," said Rupert in despair, the boy looked so frail lying there. He reached out to hold James' hand - it felt cool, despite the warmth of the ward.

"Mr. Giles?"

Rupert looked up. A tall dark haired man in a white lab coat stood at the opposite side of the bed.

"I'm Dr. Clarkson," he said, extending a hand over the still body of James.

Rupert stood up and shook the hand.

"Will he be ok?"

"We'll know more in the next few days, he has some swelling around the spinal column but there are no spinal fractures. The reason he is on a ventilator is that his breathing was weak unaided and it would be too tiring for him, probably due in part to the pressure caused by the swelling around his spine and his obvious facial injuries."

"Oh my God," said Rupert.

"We have every reason to believe that James will recover fully but head injuries can be difficult to predict. The next few days will be critical for him. We have to monitor pressure within his skull to make sure that it doesn't get too high and cause damage. He's been unconscious since he was admitted and the longer that continues the more concerned we'll be. But he has remained stable so we are very hopeful. He's a fit young lad and that's got to help. His other injuries are simple breaks and will mend without problem."

The nurse reappeared with a cup of tea. Rupert took it absentmindedly and sat back down next to James.

"Can I stay here with him?" he asked.

"By all means but remember that you will need to rest properly, too. James will need you to be strong for him when he wakes up. Have you got anywhere to stay?"

"I hadn't really thought of that, but ...er…I can probably use my sister's house," his voice broke as he realised she'd never be there to greet him again.

"_Oh God, I'll have to make funeral arrangements for them all, too."_

He collapsed into the tears he'd fought to hold in for the whole of the journey from New York.

"We have people here who can support you through this," said the doctor. He nodded to the nurse who, understanding what he meant, went to contact a counsellor.

Ooooooo

Three days had passed since Rupert had arrived to be with James. He'd been to view the bodies of his sisters, brother-in-law and nephew, needing to see them to pay his respects and to make the fact they were actually dead finally properly sink in. It seemed strange that they looked relatively unscathed yet had died whereas James was so badly battered and had survived. Their cremations had been arranged for a few days time. He'd gotten in touch with Thomas's workplace and his secretary had organised all of it, much to Rupert's relief.

He had moved into Julia and Thomas' house, getting a spare key from a neighbour. He stayed actually at the house as little as possible. It seemed wrong for it to be so quiet. The Christmas he'd spent there had been full of laughter, now it was empty and silent. He slept in the spare room that Jayne must have been using but didn't venture into James' room or the master bedroom, it seemed too much like prying.

He spent most of his time at James' bedside. So far there'd been no change, the doctors' emphasising that meant there had been no deterioration but Rupert couldn't help focussing on the fact it also meant no improvement.

Rupert was dozing in his chair at the side of the bed when he heard a noise. He looked at James to see his right eye open, the left still too badly swollen to be able to. He was choking on the tube in his windpipe. Rupert called for help, and then held James' hand.

"It's ok, James, it's going to be ok," he soothed.

James looked terrified, his hand weakly held onto Rupert's. The doctor arrived on the run.

"Just try to relax, James, it's only the tube that's helped you breathe the last few days. I'll take it out now, ok?" He unclipped the respirator from the tube. "Can you cough for me? It'll help me to ease it out."

The doctor gently and slowly eased out the tube, James coughed a few times as it was removed and he gasped before his breathing settled down. The doctor carefully watched how James was coping with breathing unaided, he was taking slightly shallower breaths than normal but had a good even rhythm.

"How did I get 'ere?" muttered James, his words almost unintelligible due to his swollen jaw and face hampering his speech.

"You don't remember?" asked Dr. Clarkson.

James shook his head a little. Rupert looked over at the doctor.

"It's quite normal, he probably won't remember the accident at all," he reassured Rupert. He turned his attention back to James.

"You were in a road traffic accident, James. You have been quite badly injured - a bang on your head left you unconscious for a few days. You've broken your shoulder blade, your ankle and you've damaged your cheekbone, jaw and nose. They'll all heal fine, it will just take a little time.

James lifted his right hand and gently touched his face, wincing when he reached the swelling around his left eye.

"You'll be ok, James, I'll be here for you," said Rupert.

James moved his head and studied Rupert carefully with a bit of a frown.

"Who are you?"

"I'm your uncle, Rupert Giles."

James just looked at him blankly. Rupert wasn't entirely surprised since they hadn't seen each other in many years but the doctor who didn't know this thought it a bit odd.

"James, can you tell me your last name?" he asked.

James looked at him for a long time before shaking his head.

"What's the last thing you remember?" asked Dr Clarkson.

Again the long pause, again James shook his head.

"I don't know," he whispered, "I can't remember anything."

A tear rolled slowly down his face from his right eye. He didn't try to wipe it away. He was scared. Why couldn't he remember? What if he never could?

To be continued……..


	11. Chapter 11

Changing Lives 

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: the plot is all I own!

**Chapter Eleven**

James had barely slept despite the medication he hurt just about everywhere. Every shift of position he made brought protest from one injury or another. The doctor had told him not to try to force the memories to return, that they would return in their own time. He had to try, he couldn't help it, but despite his efforts, everything up to the moment that he had opened his eyes in the hospital was a blank.

He closed his eyes, well his right eye, his left still being swollen shut. The stitches in his face started to itch and he raised his right hand to scratch them.

"Don't do that," said a voice softly.

He opened his eye and looked up, a nurse was at his bedside.

"You're healing well if they're itching already," she smiled at him.

He didn't say anything, just dropped his hand back to the bed. Talking was still difficult and painful due to the injury to his jaw.

"How are you feeling? Pretty sore I bet," she said.

He nodded at her.

"The night staff said you'd been restless in the night so I'm going to change your medication and we'll see if that helps, ok?"

He watched as she inserted the syringe into the catheter in the vein on the back of his hand. She depressed the plunger and the contents went directly into his bloodstream, the meds he had been given through the night had been administered via the drip he was attached to and so had a slower effect.

James sighed as he felt the drugs take hold, seemingly smoothing out all the aches and pains.

"Thank you," he managed to say, sounding a lot like a bad ventriloquist. Everything started to get slightly fuzzy to him, but fuzzy and no pain was good as far as James was concerned.

When he awoke several hours later, Rupert was sitting in the chair next to his bed.

"Morning, James," said Rupert, "How are you?"

"_How do you think I am?" _thought James sourly, _"I'm bleedin' great, smashed up but great." _Aloud he just said "Okay."

Then it struck him, why hadn't his parents been to see him? He must have parents, right? Or at least some one he lived with, Rupert obviously wasn't his usual guardian.

"Where are my parents?" he asked.

"Um." Rupert hesitated, not knowing how to say it.

The hesitation told James all he needed to know.

"They're dead, aren't they? Was I with them in the car?" he asked. It was hard to make the words form so that they could be understood.

"Yes, James, I'm sorry, they did die. So you remember them?"

James shook his head, "Just wondered why only an uncle had visited me."

He tried to visualise them but couldn't, tried to feel their loss but couldn't; how could you mourn for someone you couldn't remember?

"Why did I survive and they die?" asked James, the question almost impossible to answer.

"Just fate I guess, James," said Rupert sadly, "You were thrown clear of the car. The police say you must not have been wearing a seatbelt. The others were killed instantly when a truck hit the car crushing it against another. Your mum and dad and your aunt and cousin all died." Rupert's voice broke and he blinked back tears.

James felt wretched as he watched the older man try to control his emotions, hating the fact that he'd lost his family yet could feel nothing for them. He didn't know what to say so he didn't say anything. Dr. Clarkson walked over to them at that point.

"Good morning, James," he said as he picked up his notes and read them. "Everything caught up with you a little during the night I see."

James nodded.

"You should have told us if your meds weren't controlling the pain, James, we could have changed them before this morning. Are you more comfortable now?"

"Yeah."

"Good, just let me take a look at your face," said the doctor, examining his lacerations he pressed James' jaw, making him wince. "Still a lot of pain there, a dislocation can cause as much discomfort as a break but fortunately it will heal quicker. The ligaments just took a bit of a bashing, you'll find it will lessen in the next day or so making it easier for you to talk, and you'll be able to sample the delights of our food rather than just having the drip."

James didn't say anything.

"I take it you haven't remembered anything as yet?"

"No." said James, "What if I can't, ever?" voicing his fears.

"You will, James, I'm certain of it, you probably won't remember the accident itself or maybe anything that day but your memory will return."

"You're sure?"

The doctor looked at the young boy in the bed, he could see his fear as clearly as if was written on his forehead. The poor boy had lost his family in one cruel blow and was seriously injured. There was no wonder that parts of his brain were taking a bit of a break- his life had changed forever.

"Yes, James, I'm sure," reassured Dr. Clarkson, "We just don't know exactly when."

James muttered, "Thank God." He didn't meet either Dr. Clarkson's or Rupert's eyes, the relief making him want to cry.

Rupert followed Dr. Clarkson out of the ward as he left.

"It's the funerals tomorrow. Will James be able to attend?" he asked.

"It's out of the question, I'm afraid. I really don't want him moved just yet, the head injury was serious as you know and it would be too great a risk," advised the doctor.

"Oh, yes, I understand. I don't like the thought of him there alone when I'm at the funerals," said Rupert.

"Get one of his friends to come to see him. He's well enough for that and you never know - it might help his memory. He'll be all right, Mr. Giles, it's just going to take time. One word of caution, though, a head injury like he's had can cause mood swings, sometimes even quite unreasonable behaviour over the next few weeks. So don't be surprised if he vents his frustration, he won't be able to help it."

"Okay," said Rupert weakly, thinking how hard all this was to bear.

Rupert returned to James, "James how do you feel if I got one of your friends to come to see you tomorrow? Richard's phoned every evening to see how you are, he really wants to see you."

"I dunno," said James, not sure if he could cope with seeing someone he had no recollection of.

Rupert, accurately guessing his fears, managed to persuade him otherwise. He also told him about the funerals.

"I'm sorry," said James.

"For what?"

"Not remembering them. I mean I don't even know what colour hair I have, I can't remember what colour my eyes are." He started to weep silently, tears just falling down his cheeks.

"Hey," said Rupert, taking hold of his hand, "It's not your fault, James, don't be upset. We'll hold a memorial service when you do remember them. As for not knowing what you look like, I'm sure I can do something about that." He gently wiped away James' tears. "It is going to be okay, James, I promise."

Rupert went to ask one of the nurses if she knew where a mirror could be found, explaining the situation. She rummaged about in a desk drawer and pulled out a small mirror about six inches square.

"I'll come back with you. It's almost time for his meds and he may get upset when he's sees his facial injuries."

"Thank you," said Rupert gratefully.

"Hi, James," said the nurse brightly, "I hear you're a bit curious to have a look at your war wounds." She knew the real reason but glossed over it.

He took the mirror in his right hand and it trembled as he brought it up to his face. He looked at his reflection for a while.

"Wow," he said softly and he touched his left eye, not taking in what he looked like at all, just his facial injuries. His left eye was pretty impressive; the swelling reducing enough to allow it to open a little, the white of his eye was infused with red, and the tiny black sutures made a crescent around the eye.

"All the swelling and bruising will disappear. You will have a scar where the sutures are, James, but I'm sure it won't detract too much from your good looks." She winked at him.

James blushed. He looked at the relatively unscathed right-hand side of his face; his eye colour was a vivid blue, his hair short and sandy brown.

"_How weird not to recognise yourself."_

He passed the mirror back, shyly avoiding meeting the nurse's eye.

"Thanks."

"It's time for your next dose of meds, they may make you a little sleepy."

James welcomed the drowsiness; it was better than thinking too much.

Ooooooo

The next morning Rupert called in to see James before attending the funerals.

"I'll be back to see you later, okay?" said Rupert.

"Yeah, okay," said James, feeling awkward. He wished he could at least go to the funerals for Rupert's sake as much as anything. He could see his uncle was torn apart by what had happened, but he just didn't know what to do or say.

"Richard will be here to see you soon," said Rupert as he left.

James fidgeted with the bed sheets as he was waiting for Richard to arrive. His uncle had left a few books for him to read but his eyes got tired very quickly and the writing got blurry. He supposed it was because of the way the drugs made things seem fuzzy. He'd had a more comfortable night thanks to the drugs and the fact his bed had been raised so that he was sitting up rather than laying flat which eased the pressure on the broken shoulder blade.

He saw a stocky dark haired boy walk into the ward; he was about five foot seven and dressed in the universal attire of a teenager – jeans and a t-shirt. He glanced round until he saw James, his face registering shock as he walked over.

"'Ello mate," said Richard, "Christ, it's good to see yer."

"Hi," said James weakly, "Did….um…do…er…I don't remember…"

"I know, Mr. Giles told me all about it. Must be bleedin' weird."

"Yeah."

"Look, James, I'm, well, I'm sorry about yer folks," said Richard, "I know yer don't remember 'em yet but I do and they were nice people, yer know. God, I couldn't believe it when I 'eard it, then they wouldn't let me come to see yer 'til today."

"'S okay," said James, not knowing what else to add. Richard was right, it was bleedin' weird.

"'Ere, I've brought yer something." Richard dug in his pocket and pulled out an iPod. "Thought yer might be bored and this'd 'elp. I made sure I put most of yer favourite tracks on there." He handed it to James.

"Um, thanks, Richard."

"Rich."

"What? asked James.

"Rich, yer never call me Richard, just Rich," he said matter of factly.

"Oh right, sorry."

"I 'ad thought of 'aving a bit of fun wiv the music, was gonna put on stuff yer 'ate an' tell yer it was yer favourites but figured yer'd pummel me big time when you're back on yer feet so I thought better of it."

Rich grinned at his friend. He was so glad he was alive, not like the adults and poor William, killed on his birthday. Rich would never be able to listen to "Born In the USA" again without remembering the fun they'd had that night.

"Thanks fer that," said James, smiling a tad lopsidedly back at Rich. His jaw was less painful today but the swelling around his eye and cheekbone still made it feel stiff.

"So wot 'ave yer been doin' then?" asked James, unconsciously picking up the slang words from his best friend. "I don't remember anything 'cept these four walls, so wot 'ave I been missing out on?"

"Yer missed Neil's party that was on Sunday. Barbecue was good but the rest of it was as borin' as bloody Neil is," joked Rich and he started to recount the full details of it.

James enjoyed listening to his friend's voice animatedly telling him all the stories. Rupert was just so quiet and the sadness in him so apparent, it almost made James feel guilty for surviving whereas Rich just seemed to be acting normally.

"Does it 'urt?" asked Rich at one point, indicating James' injuries.

"Yeah, does quite a bit," replied James, "What do yer think, yer idiot."

"Soddin' 'ell, James, yer were bleedin' lucky," said Rich, sobering at the thought of the injuries.

"I know, but I 'onestly don't feel it. I mean I can't remember anything. I'm smashed up and stuck in 'ere," said James in frustration.

"It'll be 'ard, mate, I know, but it's better than being bloody dead so stop whinging," said Rich, as only a true friend could get away with saying.

"I'm not whinging; okay, so I am, sorry, Rich, just wish everything was back to normal." Knowing it never would be again and not even knowing what 'normal' was anyway.

To be continued…….


	12. Chapter 12

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: only the plot is mine!

Chapter Twelve

"_At last!"_ thought Buffy.

Finally it was the Sunday before their senior year started at Sunnydale High School, and today was the day she'd get to see William. He'd told her he'd be back on the Saturday before school started but he hadn't said what time; all her friends had advised her against going then as it would be a bit unfair to arrive perhaps just after they had. Now she was walking eagerly to his house looking forward to getting to speak to him at last.

She walked up the path past the rickety fence and knocked on the door. After a time she knocked again, hard enough to make her knuckles sting, and still no answer. She decided to walk round to the back to see if she could see any sign of life, perhaps they were still in bed? They could have gotten in really late yesterday. As she walked past the window to William's bedroom she peered in; she couldn't see him and his bed was neatly made. She looked into the kitchen but still there was no sign of anyone. Puzzled she knocked on the back door.

"They're not back from England."

Buffy turned round to see who'd spoken; a heavy - set woman in the garden next door was watching her over the fence.

"Oh? But I thought they were due home yesterday?" said Buffy.

"They were. Maybe the flight was delayed. Anyway, they're not here yet."

"Okay, thanks, I guess I'll see William in school."

Buffy turned away and slowly made her way home. As soon as she got in she called Willow to tell her the news.

"William will hate it if he misses the start of term," said Willow, "He'll have lost his chance of the one hundred percent attendance record on the first day."

"Yeah, I did want to see him before school but perhaps he'll get home sometime today and make it in tomorrow?" said Buffy hopefully.

Ooooooo

The next day saw Buffy, Willow, Xander and Oz walking up the steps into the school building together. A large notice had been taped onto the door informing all seniors to gather in the school hall before start of class.

"Wonder what this is all about?" said Xander as they made their way there.

"Dunno," replied Oz.

Soon the hall was crowded with students. Principal Snyder walked onto the stage, his face grave, which wasn't particularly unusual - most of the students had never seen the man smile.

"Can I have your attention, please?" he called, his voice carrying to all corners of the room.

He waited for complete silence to fall before he continued.

"I have some very bad news to convey regarding one of the best students Sunnydale High has ever seen, William Pratt."

"Oh God! What's The Pratt done now?" Angel's sneering voice sounded from near the back.

"O'Connor! My room immediately after this!" cried Snyder.

Buffy found she was holding her breath.

"I'm sorry to tell you that William was killed in a road traffic accident while he was on vacation in England."

"No!" gasped Buffy.

Willow put her arm around her friend; she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"We shall be holding a memorial service for him at a later date of which you shall be informed. His uncle, Mr. Rupert Giles, was due to commence as our new librarian, but understandably his arrival will be delayed as he tends to William's cousin James Norman. James was the only survivor of the crash which claimed the lives of his parents and also William's mother. Once James has recovered from his injuries he will be joining us here at Sunnydale when Mr Giles starts work and I trust you will all make him feel very welcome. The library will have restricted opening times until then."

By the time Snyder had dismissed them Buffy was crying openly, and clinging to her friend.

"Oh, poor William, it's so unfair," she sobbed.

"I know, Buffy, I know," soothed Willow. She nodded to the boys to leave them alone and stayed in the hall with Buffy long after everyone else had left, not caring about class.

Ooooooo

On the same day several thousand miles away James was being prepared for discharge from the hospital. It was three weeks after the crash and though he still had no improvement in his memory, everything else was healing nicely. The sutures in the cut around his left eye had been removed leaving a pink scar and his left eye was back to normal. To aid James, since he couldn't use crutches because of his broken shoulder blade, the plaster cast on his left ankle had been replaced with a stronger 'walking' cast so he could move about the house on his own. He was nervous about going home. He desperately wanted his memory to come back but knew it was going to hurt like hell when it did. The grief he had been unable to feel, so far, would be waiting for him with the memories.

"Why are we goin' to my house?" James asked Rupert, "Why not yours?"

"That'd be a bit difficult, James, I live in New York." _"Or rather I did."_

Today was the day he should have started work at William's school. He'd applied for the job when Julia had contacted him about her serious concerns for William and Jayne. He had told only Julia and Thomas of his plans. So far he'd shied away from telling James that he intended the pair of them to go to Sunnydale as soon as he was fit.

"New York?" exclaimed James.

"Yes, I've been there for about four years now. Right, I think it's time to get you out of here," said Rupert.

James got off the bed and into the wheelchair that Rupert had ready for him to use. The nurse who'd brought the mirror to James that day came over to say goodbye.

"Come back and see us when you're fully fit," she said, "It'll be nice to see you when you're back on your feet."

"Um, okay," said James.

As they pulled up into the driveway of his home James looked at the house. The last time he'd been in here he'd had a family, now all he had was an uncle who he hadn't seen in years. They went into the sitting room.

"Sit yourself down, James, I'll go and make us a cup of tea," said Giles, leaving him alone. He knew he'd want to look over what should be a very familiar room on his own.

James made his way to the fireplace - there were photographs in frames on its mantle. He picked one up of him with his parents, probably a couple of years ago, taken on holiday somewhere. He studied his face in the photo, and then looked at his reflection in the large mirror above the fireplace. The scar was new, obviously, as was the fact that his nose was slightly crooked due to the break - he looked a lot older than in the photograph and thinner. He looked at the faces of his parents, but still no images came to mind. Had Dr. Clarkson been wrong? Was this the way it was going to be?

He sat on the couch when Rupert returned with the tea. Their conversation was stilted, both nervous of how the next few days would go. In the early afternoon James asked Rupert if he'd mind if he went for a lie down.

"You don't have to ask, James," replied Rupert, "Do you want a hand to get up the stairs?"

"No, I think I'll be okay, thanks," said James as he got up and limped out of the room, just needing to be alone, and feeling restless and unsettled.

He hobbled up the stairs, pausing on the landing for a moment before opening the door nearest him. It was obviously his bedroom; he looked around seeing the desk with the computer, the piles of CDs, a few books, posters of various groups. He went in and sat without thinking on the camp bed pushed against one wall rather than the proper bed.

On the bed beside him were an obviously new laptop computer and a few other things including a book. James picked it up; it was a copy of the novel, Pride and Prejudice. He opened the cover and saw the inscription written there, he squinted a little and read it. His heart felt it would stop, his breath caught in his throat. He recognised the handwriting. But the reason his heart missed a beat or two was because he recognised it as his mother's. And that meant that he wasn't James at all – he was…

"William," he said to himself, "Oh my God, I'm William!"

He sat there shocked as memories flooded back as if a door had been opened in his mind. Tears streamed down his face. He put his head in his hands, body wracked with sobs. When he finally managed to stem the tears, he sat there feeling emptier now that he had his memories than he had before they'd returned.

He sat there feeling crushed by the loss of his mother and James, who'd proven to be the best friend he'd ever had. His aunt and uncle had been so good to him, not just over the summer but also with the presents of books over the years that his mom had kept herself isolated from her sister.

He thought of Rich, how could he tell him that he wasn't his friend? That all the times he'd visited it was on false pretences. Would he have visited William as often as he had James? He'd only known him a couple of weeks. And what of William? No mom, no friends, and an uncle he hadn't met since his dad had been jailed. He was terrified of what his future held. He didn't know how long he sat there, but he couldn't move.

"James! Are you awake?" Rupert's voice reached him from downstairs. "I thought I'd order Chinese takeaway to get the taste of all that hospital food out of your mouth," he joked.

"Er….yeah….that'd be great, thanks, I'll ..um come down," called William. _"Christ, what do I do now? How do I tell him who I am? _He thought desperately, _"I'll tell him tomorrow,"_ he decided, unable to face doing it that night.

To be continued…


	13. Chapter 13

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: I own merely the plot 

Chapter Thirteen

As they waited for their Chinese takeaway to be delivered Rupert told William he had some serious things he needed to tell him.

"Oh, okay," said William.

"Well, James, I know this may seem a little hard but I have had a couple of visits with your parents' solicitor for the reading of their wills and to finalise all the details. I am now legally your guardian; your parents were very thorough in the makings of their wills, so it's all been very clear and simple to sort out. Basically you'll inherit the bulk of their estate which will be held in trust for you until you're twenty-five years old. We can go through all the details at a later date and you'll need to visit the solicitor at some point, too."

"Um, I need to tell you something, Rupert," said William hesitantly. He'd have to tell Rupert now - he couldn't take money that would most likely be Rupert's if James were known to have died.

"Yes, James, but can you just let me finish what I have to say and then tell me?" said Rupert, not looking forward to telling James he was being uprooted to California.

"Oh, right, yeah, 'course." stuttered William.

"I'm afraid this may be a bit difficult for you. The thing is it was organised months ago. I have taken a job at William's old school and I have an apartment organised. I was doing it to try to be there to support Jayne and William, to try to help them put their troubles behind them."

William felt tears starting to sting his eyes; they'd all worked together to help him and his mom. God, it was all so unfair.

"The thing is, James, I'm still going to take the position, which means that you'll have to move out there with me. They've been very supportive and will do their best to make us both very welcome. They're going to hold a memorial service for William when we get over there, it's all arranged."

William looked at Rupert in horror. Back to Sunnydale High, back after it's been announced that he'd been killed. He could already hear Angel's sneering voice in his ear _"Couldn't even die properly, could you, Pratt?"_

"I know it'll be difficult for you, but I have to be practical, I have to work. We don't have to go until you're fully fit, so you'll miss a bit at the start of school but I'll help you as much as I can and there is a program set up to help students who are behind in their classes," said Rupert. He could see the emotion on William's stricken face but didn't know the real reason. "I'm so sorry to put you through this but I honestly can't do anything else at this point, James."

Still William couldn't speak, _"Christ! Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse. What the hell do I do now?"_

Thankfully at that point the front doorbell rang; the food had arrived. Rupert got up to answer the door and took the food into the kitchen.

"Come on, James, we'll eat it in here, it'll be easier," called Rupert, getting a couple of plates out and some cutlery.

"I'm not hungry," said William, going upstairs as quickly as his injuries would allow. He went into his bedroom and slammed the door.

"That went well, Rupert, you handled that perfectly," said Rupert, suddenly losing his own appetite.

Ooooooo

William barely slept that night and when he did he was plagued with dreams, all of which centred on Angel's bullying. He woke repeatedly from them, sometimes afraid, sometimes embarrassed and sometimes he woke as Angel threw a punch.

"No," vowed William, "I can't do it. I can't go back."

He'd slept on the camping bed, unable to take his place in James' bed. He had been given permission by the doctors to use his contact lenses again. They'd removed the ones he'd been wearing the day of the accident but his left eye had needed to settle down before he could use them again. He glanced at the box of them near his bed. There was no name on it to indicate whose they were. He was glad he'd be able to see clearly again. Only Richard would know that James didn't wear them.

He looked at the clock, seven AM; he didn't get out of bed, what was the point? He wished he was dead and the real James alive, it'd be easier. It would be over. He looked back at his life, memories intact up to the day of the accident - that hadn't come back at all, just like the doctor had predicted. His life had been crap, happy memories in the minority and now he was being thrown back into that life without even his mom there for him. He'd dreamed of staying in England with James, but like all of the dreams he'd ever had it wouldn't happen. He started to cry for the loss of his mom and his cousin who'd been so great to him. He could almost see him sitting on the bed opposite, with his trademark grin and happy-go-lucky nature.

Rupert paused on the landing outside James' room. He had intended on checking to see if he was okay but stopped before his knuckles made contact with the door when he heard the sound of sobs through it.

"_Christ, poor kid,"_ he thought, turning away and going downstairs.

Ooooooo

A couple of hours later William made his way down the stairs. He was wearing James' Kaiser Chiefs t-shirt that he'd worn the night of the karaoke. He had to put the same pair of jeans on that he'd worn home from the hospital which had been cut up the seam to allow them to slip over his plaster cast. He could smell bacon frying in the kitchen and his stomach rumbled - he was starving having missed his supper the evening before.

"Morning, James," said Rupert brightly when he saw him.

"Mornin'," muttered William, avoiding his eye and sliding onto a chair at the table.

"Hungry?"

"Um, yeah."

"_Bloody hell," _thought Rupert, _"Everything's so awkward, I'm not sure I can do this 'parent' thing, I've screwed it up already."_

He buttered some bread and made a pile of sandwiches, then put them in the middle of the table and sat down opposite William.

"Dig in, James. Do you want some tomato ketchup?

"No thanks, they're okay as they are," said William, leaning forward with his right hand and taking one.

Rupert noticed the tattoo on the top of his arm for the first time, since the shirt was sleeveless.

"Oh, I didn't realise you had a tattoo. Julia never mentioned it and I would have thought she would have moaned about it," said Rupert sadly, "I know she didn't really like them."

William twisted his arm and looked at the tattoo, wincing as the memory of getting it done hit him hard - James persuading him to have one, laughing together as they decided what to put on the card to Buffy. William closed his eyes.

"James? Are you all right? Are you hurting? You missed last night's pills," said Rupert anxiously.

"I'm…..er….I'm okay, it's just we both got one done and they never saw them. We managed to hide them until….until…..now they won't ever see them, will they?" He looked Rupert in the eye for the first time that morning, his face etched with such grief that it pained Rupert to see it.

"You've remembered? That's good," said Rupert, thinking how could it be good when it obviously hurt him so much.

"Yeah, I've remembered," said William, "Wish I hadn't."

Rupert got up and went round to hug him, not noticing how initially William flinched as he took hold of him, as if expecting a blow. He remained rigid in Rupert's arms as more tears fell; this time his were joined by Rupert's; both acutely feeling their loss.

"Oh, James, we'll get through this, it'll get better. I promise," said Rupert.

"Don't call me that!" cried William, shrugging off Rupert's arms.

"What?" said Rupert, stepping back astonished at his outburst.

"James is dead! He's gone. He died with all the others," shouted William. He stood up and looked around the room in a panic, "I can't… this is too hard…."

"Hey, I know it's hard, it is for me, too," said Rupert.

"No! Yer don't understand…."

You're right; I can't understand what you're going through. I can't begin to understand it, but we've only got each other. We've just got to try to muddle through as best we can," interrupted Rupert, "Don't push me away, please."

William sat back down with a thud, all the anger going out of him; he rubbed his hand over his face.

"It's just…" he started then stopped as in his mind he could hear Angel's threatening words. He couldn't tell Rupert the truth. He just couldn't face Angel having a field day with his bullying. He'd tasted life without constantly feeling anxious or afraid and he couldn't bear going back to how it was before.

If his 'death' hadn't been announced he could have coped, but now it'd be impossible. Every student in the school would be aware of it and of him. He quailed at the thought of all the attention.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, hating himself for being so weak. His apology directed more to James than Rupert.

To be continued……..


	14. Chapter 14

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: I own only the plot 

Chapter Fourteen

Today was the day that William was having his plaster cast removed from his ankle. He'd had the strapping on his shoulder taken off the previous week. He had become increasingly withdrawn since he left hospital, prone to sullen silences or fits of temper towards Rupert. Only with Rich did William seem to be able to cope and be more like his usual self. He hated deceiving Rich but at the same time he loved his company so much that he just concentrated on having fun. The fact he was leaving the country soon made it a bit easier but he'd miss him.

William was monosyllabic on the way to the hospital. Rupert gave up trying to make conversation, he was really worried about James and had arranged to talk to Dr Clarkson whilst James was having his cast removed. He wanted to see if his moodiness was a result of his head injury, his grief or whether, as Rupert was starting to suspect, he was simply taking the piss.

"Here we are then," said Rupert as he pulled into a parking space in the hospital car park.

William just grunted in reply and got out of the car, he'd taken to wearing the long black leather duster that he'd worn the day of the accident, despite all its scuffs from the road surface when he was flung out of the car. He appreciated the irony of wearing it with its scars since when he'd worn it to the Karaoke, James had joked that he'd kill him if he damaged it.

They walked into the hospital and made their way to the ward where the cast would be taken off. Rupert had made sure they were early for the appointment so he'd have plenty of time to see Dr Clarkson.

"Don't forget to go and see the nurses in the ICU to say goodbye and show them you're fit," reminded Rupert.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," said William moodily.

"Okay, I'll be back soon, I'll meet you up at the ICU," said Rupert with a sigh and he went to the doctor's office.

Oooooo

William was waiting to be attended to. He knew he was being unfair to Rupert but he just couldn't help it. As the date for their departure to America got closer he just got more edgy.

"James Norman," called the nurse. Every time he heard the name a stab of pain went through him.

"Er, yeah," he said, getting up and going to the cubicle. He got on the bed and the nurse deftly cut the cast off. William flexed his ankle a few times, glad to be finally free of it. He pulled on the sock and put on the shoe he'd brought with him.

"Thanks," he said, standing up and testing it gingerly.

"Just be careful of it for a couple of weeks or so," cautioned the nurse.

"Okay."

He made his way to the elevator to go up to the ICU ward, after putting on a different pair of jeans and throwing away the ones with the seam cut open. He limped slightly as he walked along but knew that it would soon go once his ankle gained strength from being used. He hesitated as he stepped onto the ward; it was strange to be back there again. He'd been there for three weeks but it had seemed so much longer.

"James! Hi!" a voice called.

He looked round. It was Chrissie; the nurse who'd brought him the mirror that day. She was about twenty- three and had always flirted with him a bit, which made William blush. He felt his cheeks start to heat up as she walked towards him.

"Um, hi Chrissie," he said.

"Oh wow! Look at you!" she said, "Love the coat."

"Thanks," said William, looking at the floor as he blushed furiously.

"Bet you're glad to be free of your casts and of this place?" said Chrissie.

"Yeah, it's a bit weird comin' back in," said William honestly, "but thanks for all yer did for me."

"It's my pleasure, James. It's just great to get people fit to get on with their lives. So are you back at school yet?"

"No, we're um…going to live in California in a few days time. My uncle's got a job out there and so I've to go too."

"California, eh? Sounds like a good adventure."

"I suppose," said William, his lack of enthusiasm evident.

"You're not looking forward to going?" she asked

"No, not really. I'd rather stay 'ere."

"I'm sure you'll be fine when you get there. You'll soon make new friends and have the girls eating out of your hand." She grinned at him.

"I guess."

A few more nurses stopped to say hello and wish him all the best. William was supposed to wait there to meet Rupert but suddenly he could bear it no longer.

"Can yer tell Rupert that I'll be back at the car, please?" he asked Chrissie, "I need a bit of air."

"'Course I will, you take care now, good luck."

He stalked off the ward, took the elevator to the ground floor and walked outside.

Oooooo

Dr. Clarkson shook Rupert's hand and gestured for him to take a seat.

"You're concerned about James. Tell me, what he's been like?" he said.

"Where do I start?" said Rupert, "He seemed okay when he was in here but when we got him home he changed. I blame myself for telling him about the move to California too soon, but I thought it was better than giving him hardly any warning. He stormed off and I left him alone that night but the next morning I heard him weeping and then he told me his memories were back. Since then he's just gotten more withdrawn, barely speaking, slamming doors. I don't know what to do."

"Well, obviously he's had a lot to cope with. The memories flooding back will have hurt him emotionally, from feeling nothing to abruptly getting all the grief hitting home would be enough to make anyone struggle to cope. How is he with his friends?"

"He only sees Richard, his best friend. Who has been to see him as often as he can but he is now back at school. James seems fine with him, it's only me he seems to hit out at."

"That's because you're the nearest to him. He knows you have to take care of him. He's probably feeling insecure, too, from having a loving family to an uncle who legally has to take responsibility for him; he may think you don't really want him around. The fact you're taking him to California may make him think that what he wants and feels aren't important - that you'll just do what you were going to do regardless of him."

"But that's ridiculous!" protested Rupert.

"Is it?" said Dr. Clarkson, "Honestly, wouldn't you just prefer to have your life back as it was? Responsible for no one?"

"I'd like my sisters and their families to be alive, yes!" snapped Rupert.

"That's not what I asked."

"I know," replied Rupert, "I am finding it difficult. I'd taken the job so I could be there for Jayne and William and now I'm uprooting James from all he knows. We're going where neither of us will know a soul except for each other."

"Maybe that will help you both, you'll have to rely on one another."

"But what about when he said that James was dead? I have to confess it shocked the hell out of me and I didn't know what to say or do. He won't let me call him James; almost cringes if I do," said Rupert.

"He probably feels that part of his life as James is dead. It's certainly over, his life changed forever. Just humour him on the name thing, I think for now, see how he settles in America. It's very common for sole survivors of tragedies like this to feel guilty that they are alive and the others dead. His emotions will be harder for him to control than normal for quite some time, but it should get better. Keep in touch with me and I'll help you as much as I can. He may benefit from talking things out with a psychiatrist at some point, too. And on top of all that he is a teenaged boy and they can be notoriously moody without any of the reasons James has," said Dr. Clarkson with a wry smile as he stood up, "I'm afraid I have to go on my rounds now; good luck."

They shook hands again and Rupert went up to the ICU to find James, only to be told he'd left and would be at the car. Rupert sighed and went to find him. He saw him as soon as he walked out of the hospital. He was leaning against the car, head down; hands plunged deeply into the pockets of the leather coat, the very picture of abject misery.

"_I'm failing you, James, aren't I?"_

To be continued…..


	15. Chapter 15

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: only the plot is really my own!

Chapter Fifteen

It was the Saturday before William and Rupert were due to fly out to start their new lives in California on Wednesday. William was out with Rich, it was the final chance the pair would have to see each other as Rich had to go visiting some aunt or other with his family on Sunday.

The lads mooched along the streets heading towards London's Oxford Street, both were quieter than normal. Rupert had given William some money to treat himself to something; clothes, cds, anything he wanted, but he couldn't get in the mood for shopping, remembering how he'd gone with his mom before coming to England. It seemed so long ago. Eventually it was time for them to go home, as they parted they hugged each other.

"Keep in touch, mate," said Rich, his voice breaking.

"I will, Rich, I promise," said William, wishing he had the courage to tell him the truth. Perhaps he would when he was in the US, he couldn't bear to see Rich's face when he learned his friend was really dead and that he'd taken his identity.

Rich walked away in the direction of his home, but William couldn't face going home himself so he walked back the way they'd just come and hopped on the Tube. He got off at the stop he and James had when they'd had their tattoos done. He paused in front of the barber's shop where he'd had his haircut; he smiled as he opened the door almost able to hear James joking like last time as he went in. He sat in the chair and the same man came to attend to him.

"Hi, what can I do for you today?" he asked.

"I want to look different," said William.

"How different?"

"As different as I can," replied William.

"Okay, lets see what I can do."

William sat looking at his reflection, eyes drawn as always to the scar around his left eye.

"Sorry?" he said realising the barber had said something.

"Just asking why the need for a radical new look? Fed up of looking like your twin?"

"Wot?" said William.

"Oh? Have I got the wrong person? I don't usually forget a face. Mind you, I don't remember the scar, but didn't you come in here with your twin not that long ago?"

"Er…yeah…I did."

"So do you reckon I'll be doing his hair, too?" joked the barber.

"No, no yer won't be doin' his 'air, because he's dead," said William bluntly, knowing it was mean of him but he couldn't help it.

"Christ, I'm sorry, mate," said the barber, glancing at William's scar and suddenly remembering the story in the local newspaper about a family wiped out in a car crash. He was sure it had said cousins but since when did the local 'rag' ever get anything right.

"Yeah, me too," said William quietly.

When the barber had finished he asked William if he liked it. William looked at his hair; it was now bleached as white as snow and slicked back from his forehead. Now when he looked in the mirror he didn't see William or James, he saw 'Spike'.

"Yeah, it's cool, thanks." He got up and pulled out his wallet to pay. "'Ow much do I owe yer?"

"No mate, you can have this on me," he said, still feeling awful about mentioning his brother earlier.

"Don't want yer bleedin' charity," snapped William. He threw £40 on the counter and stormed out of the shop.

When he'd gone a few hundred yards he leant against a wall and closed his eyes.

"Christ, I'm losing it," he muttered.

Then a thought struck him - he'd get lost. Just go away, anywhere, it didn't matter. Rupert could get back to his own life. He pulled out his wallet and counted the money, he had £160 in it. That should get him somewhere nice and far away. Buses were cheaper than trains so he asked in a shop for directions to the bus depot. When he got there he realised he didn't have a clue where to go, so he went to the ticket office.

"Wot bus goes the furthest away from 'ere?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" asked the clerk.

"Wot I said," said William crossly. He took a deep breath and tried again. "Which of the buses runnin' tonight goes the furthest from 'ere?" he added as an afterthought, "Please."

"But don't you have a destination you want to get to?" insisted the clerk.

"Yes I 'ave." said William, "I want to get as far from this soddin' place as possible - tonight."

"Oh, all right then, let me have a look. We've got one that goes up to Edinburgh. It travels through the night and leaves here in about two hours," she said.

"That'll do. 'Ow much is it?" he paid her and took his ticket.

There was a snack bar in the corner of the depot so he went and bought a couple of sandwiches and a can of Coke. He took them outside and found a bench near to where he had to get onto the bus. He sat there and ate one of the sandwiches, it was pretty soggy but it did its job. He leant his head back and closed his eyes. He didn't realise that he'd fallen asleep until he was woken by a gentle push on his shoulder.

"Huh?" he said blearily looking up, "Is the bus 'ere?"

"Not yet, no."

He was suddenly totally awake. There were two police officers standing in front of him, an incredibly tall man over six foot five and a rather slight woman about a foot shorter. It was the female officer who had spoken. He sat up straight.

"Are you James Norman?" she asked.

"No." he replied honestly.

"Come on, James, don't mess us about. Description given; slim white youth, seventeen years, crescent shaped scar around left eye, probably wearing a long black leather jacket," she said sternly. "Didn't have the bleached hair down though, it's supposed to be sandy brown."

"It was," said William.

"So what are you doing, James? Your uncle is frantic."

"I 'aven't been gone that long," said William, "'Ow come yer lookin' for me already?" He'd figured the police wouldn't even begin looking for him for twenty-four hours.

"James, you're less than a month out of the hospital after suffering a major head injury so you got prioritised," she said with a smile.

"Great, just my luck," he said, "So wot now?"

"We take you home."

"Wot if I don't want to go?"

"Not your decision." The male officer spoke for the first time.

William stood up and glanced around. Would he make it if he ran for it? He took half a step away from the officers but got no further as a huge hand gripped his left arm firmly above the elbow. He looked at the hand then the face of the man it belonged to.

The policeman smiled at him. It was a smile that said 'just try running for it and see what happens'.

William sighed, "Okay."

He expected the hand to be removed but it wasn't, the grip stayed just as firm.

"This way then, sir," said the policeman with sarcasm that earned him a 'look' from his partner. He hated dealing with these little middle class brats, got everything handed them on a plate and still weren't happy. The jacket this one was wearing must have cost over £1000.

"George," warned the woman. She knew what he was thinking but he hadn't heard the bit over the radio about the lad losing his parents recently like she had.

George led William somewhat roughly back to the patrol car. William's face was burning by the time he got in after all the disgusted looks he'd earned by being escorted by the police. He was put in the back seat and the policewoman sat next to him.

"Are you okay?" she asked kindly.

"Better if I'd been on that bus." He kept his head down and fiddled with his hands.

"Running away is never the answer, James."

He didn't reply.

She gave his hand a brief squeeze. William felt tears prick his eyes; he blinked them away. Shortly afterwards they pulled up outside of the house. George got out of the driver's seat and let William and the policewoman out of the back seat - the doors couldn't be opened from the inside.

As soon as his foot was on the path the door to the house was flung open and Rupert came outside.

"James! Oh, thank God!" he cried, rushing towards him, "Christ, I thought I'd lost you, too." He threw his arms around William, "Come on, let's get you inside."

"We'll leave you to it then, sir," said the woman before George could speak. The two officers got back into their car.

"Why did you do that? Never got to give my 'perils of running away' lecture."

"George, the kid's parents were killed in the crash he was hurt in. Give him a break."

"Oh," said George.

"Yes, 'oh'. They're not all spoilt brats, you know, just because the address is trendy," she admonished.

"Whatever," said George, sounding a lot like a spoilt brat himself.

Ooooooo

Rupert led William to the sitting room, where they both sat down on the couch.

"Look, James, I know you don't want to leave here but I can't stay, I have to take the job. You've barely said three words a day to me since you came out of the hospital, but please, please promise me you'll not run away again. Lord knows; if I lost you I don't know what I'd do." Rupert wearily rubbed his hand over his face, "I know I'm not your parents, James, but I'm trying. We've just got to try our best together. I wish you didn't hate me so much."

"I don't 'ate you," murmured William, "I 'ate me."

Giles couldn't make out what he'd said.

"Sorry?"

William repeated what he said.

"Don't say that, James," said Rupert, putting his arms around William who hugged him back for the first time as his tears began to fall.

Rupert held onto his nephew until the boy's sobs had died down. William sniffed a couple of times and pulled away. He looked at Rupert.

"I'm sorry."

He realised that Rupert wasn't there just because he had to be; but that he was trying to make up for not seeing as much of his sisters and their families over the years as perhaps he should have.

"That's okay, just don't do it again, all right?" said Rupert. "And what in the world have you done to your hair?

"Wanted a change," said William, feeling a touch embarrassed.

"Well, it's certainly that!" exclaimed Rupert.

Their eyes met and they both started to laugh.

"_Perhaps things will get better from now on?"_ thought Rupert.

Little did he know…

To be continued….


	16. Chapter 16

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: only the plot is mine!

Chapter Sixteen

It was the day of their departure. Neither had been able to bear the thought of clearing the house out so Rupert had organised with the solicitor that the house would be locked up and alarmed, and that someone would check it regularly. He would come back in the first vacation time he had and clear out the belongings to ready for it to be rented out; the decision whether to sell it or keep it would rest with James when he was twenty-five. He'd been visibly upset when Rupert had taken him into the solicitor's to sign the required legal documents, and had shut himself away in his room when they got back, music blaring; not that you could blame the boy.

William had packed two suitcases. He left his old boring shirts behind and took some of James' t-shirts and such instead. Rupert had told him to bring the laptop for ease of transport. The last thing William packed was the copy of Pride and Prejudice.

He looked round the bedroom one last time before he went downstairs.

"Good bye, James," he whispered.

They took a taxi to the airport, leaving the car Rupert had been driving that had been Julia's in the driveway of the house. After what seemed like an age they boarded the flight and settled back for their journey. Although William had tried hard for Rupert's sake, the thought of returning to Sunnydale still filled him with dread and he just sat there in silence.

"Oh, I nearly forgot, Richard gave me this the other day but made me promise not to give it to you until we were on the plane."

Puzzled, William took the envelope and opened it. He pulled out a sheet of paper and could hear Rich's voice as he started to read it.

_All right, mate? Bet you're wondering why I'm writing you a letter aren't you? Well, the thing is I didn't know how to say it to your face._

William glanced at Rupert to make sure he couldn't see the letter then carried on reading.

_It's hard enough writing it, but here goes. Look, I know you're Spike, okay?_

William's heart missed a beat. He got up muttering that he was going to the toilet and hurried down the aisle of the plane. Once inside the toilet he locked the door and sat on its lid. Hands trembling, he looked at the letter once more.

_I had some suspicions when you were in the hospital; but it was only after you got home and you got your memories back that I knew for sure that you weren't James. There was stuff you should have known that you didn't. At first I just thought it was because it all hadn't come back properly but two things clinched it: 1) You ate anchovies on a pizza and James hated anchovies and 2) I heard you singing along to your iPod one day and trust me - James wasn't exaggerating when he said he couldn't sing; he was bleeding terrible!_

_He was my best friend, __the__ best friend I could've had. But I don't blame you for not telling when you got your memories back. Mr. Giles had already told me, before you got out of hospital, that you were going to California and would have to go to 'William's' old school. James told me a lot of what you went through at that school and I don't blame you not wanting to go back as William, so I understand it, mate._

_I reckon William died that day too, didn't he? Anyway, Spike, I just wanted you to know that when I said I wanted to keep in touch I meant it. I'm your friend and you can tell me anything. You don't have to go through this alone. James wouldn't mind, in fact he'd probably think it was a right bloody laugh. _

_So take care, good luck and email me as soon as you can._

_Rich_

_PS. Maybe I can come and visit you? They say California girls are pretty hot!_

William smiled at the last sentence, typical Rich. It was a relief to know that he didn't have to lie to Rich any more; that had bothered him more than anything. He carefully folded the letter and put it into the back pocket of his jeans.

Ooooooo

As William and Rupert queued to get off the plane, William's stomach was tying itself in knots. He felt ill.

"_I'm back, oh Christ, I'm back,"_ he thought, then corrected himself, _"No, Spike's arriving."_ He stood up straight, trying to think how he'd been when he was on stage the night that Spike was 'born'. _"Okay, so not pissed up but I can still do this, I have to."_

It was almost midnight when they got to Rupert's, well their, new apartment. It had a heavy ornate carved wooden door and opened into a large room - dining table at one end, arm chairs and couch at the other. They dumped their bags just inside the door.

Rupert walked into the kitchen and put the kettle on - typically English he needed a cup of tea. When he'd contacted the school to tell them of the date of his arrival, the secretary had told him she'd get a few essential items of groceries taken to the apartment for him. He desperately hoped it included tea bags, which it did, but also some milk, bread, eggs, butter and some cookies.

Spike glanced around the apartment. To the side of the living area was a flight of stairs they were covered with brightly decorated tiles. He looked up - they turned half way up and led to a bedroom which 'hung' over the living space below. It had rails, not a wall, so if you were in the bedroom you could look down over them into the sitting room.

"_Huh,"_ thought Spike,_ "One bedroom, so where am I going?"_

"Scrambled eggs on toast sound okay?" asked Rupert.

"Yeah, fine, thanks," said Spike, taking the offered cup of tea gratefully.

"It's not very big," said Rupert apologetically.

"'S okay, didn't reckon on 'avin' a lodger, did yer."

"You're not a lodger, James…er…Spike." Corrected Rupert as he was glared at, "but at least you do have your own room, or will have as soon as we get it sorted out."

"Oh? I thought it was the couch for me," said Spike.

"No, it was going to be my study but I think it'll be okay, it's the only room apart from the bathroom that's got a bloody door. I don't really like this open plan layout," said Rupert, leading the way to a door underneath the staircase. He pushed it open. "So what do you think? We can get everything you need tomorrow." He looked anxiously at Spike, hoping he'd like it.

Spike looked around the room - it was about twelve feet square, had a row of small windows high up on the back wall, and it was empty save for a table. He turned and smiled at his uncle.

"It's great, thanks."

Rupert tried not to sag with relief. To say he'd been worried about it was an understatement and when James had announced on the flight that he wanted Rupert to call him Spike from now on, he hadn't known what to think.

"Why Spike?" he'd asked

"'Cause that's what…he…er…William…always called me, okay?" he'd replied.

"Okay then." Rupert had agreed reluctantly.

Rupert fixed them their eggs and a short time afterwards they went to bed - Rupert to his mezzanine bedroom and Spike, for one night only, to the couch.

To be continued….


	17. Chapter 17

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: only the plot is mine!

Chapter Seventeen.

Spike woke up early, mostly thanks to the fact that the couch was as hard as a park bench. He quietly made his way to the bathroom and had a shower. He looked at his reflection thoughtfully. He wasn't too sure what to make of his white blond hair; it looked cool with the duster on, though. He smiled - William Pratt – cool? That person truly was no more.

Rupert was walking down the stairs as he got back to the sitting room.

"Want a cup of tea?" asked Spike.

"Yes, thanks. I'll grab a quick shower first then when we've had that we'll get out and get to the stores to sort out your room," said Rupert, pleased to see 'Spike' looking enthusiastic. He still thought of him as Spike in quotation marks!

Not long afterwards they headed out to start their spending spree. Top of the list was a bed for Spike and a car for Rupert – neither of the purchases took long. Rupert bought a rather beat up old Citroen, much to Spike's amusement.

"It'll do for now," said Rupert defensively.

Spike just grinned at him, which was a welcome sight for Rupert to see. Spike's bed was soon selected and after much persuasion it was going to be delivered later that day, along with a desk and chair, set of drawers and a wardrobe. They spent a couple of hours getting the rest of the things they needed, had lunch whilst they were out and got home in plenty of time for the delivery of the furniture.

Once it was in his room, Spike spent the rest of the evening sorting it out, and putting his clothes away. He put up a Kaiser Chiefs poster on the wall that he'd brought from England. When he'd finished he looked around it - his laptop was on the desk, CD player and TV on top of the drawers. He'd put the copy of Pride and Prejudice in the drawer of his bedside cabinet, that was the only book he had. He thought of all his books at his old house. What would happen to the house and contents now?

After dinner they just lounged about watching TV until bedtime.

"Thanks for all my stuff," said Spike as he went to his room.

"_So far so good,"_ thought Rupert.

Ooooooo

"Do yer mind if I go for a walk?" asked Spike the next morning.

"Of course not, just don't get lost," joked Rupert.

"I won't and I'll be back for lunch," replied Spike.

He wandered along, drawn irresistibly to his old house; it took him half an hour to get there. After the lovely house in London it looked even grimmer than it usually did. He walked up the path and looked in at his old room. It seemed like a lifetime ago since he'd been there. He walked into the backyard. They'd always hidden a key under a large stone a few yards from the house so he went and picked it up.

"What do you think you're doing?" said a voice harshly.

He recognised it instantly. It was Mrs. Johnson from next door; she never missed a trick.

"Um," he said, realising he couldn't tell her he was William.

"Up to no good, I reckon. Clear off, we don't need the likes of you nosying around."

"Look, I'm not doin' any 'arm," said Spike.

"If you're not out of there in two minutes I'm calling the cops."

"Okay, okay, I'm goin'." He knew her well enough to know her threats weren't idle.

He caught a glimpse of his reflection as he passed a window. Bleach blond locks, long black coat, black jeans, t-shirt and boots - he did look a bit like a troublemaker he supposed, the scar on his face adding to it. Another revelation: William Pratt – intimidating. God, this was getting more bizarre by the second!

He was delighted to find out his Internet account was up and running when he got home and he immediately went online and e-mailed Rich, apologising for misleading him and telling him how much his letter had meant to him. He signed his name as Spike; it felt right.

Ooooooo

"Ja….er..Spike? Are you ready? Don't want to be late for your first day," called Rupert on Monday morning, "Come and have some breakfast."

The door to Spike's room opened and out walked Spike dressed in his now usual black jeans and black boots. His t-shirt was sleeveless and showed his tattoo. It too was black, with 'Ghost of the Robot' written on the left side of the chest.

"_Nice job of trying to blend in," _thought Rupert. He'd only met Principal Snyder once, and that was at his job interview but he already knew he would hate Spike on sight with the way he was dressed.

"Mornin'," said Spike. He hadn't slept well and was dreading the thought of going to school, but then again that was nothing new.

"Morning," replied Rupert, resisting the urge to try to get him to change his clothes, "There's some toast, would you like some eggs?"

"No, toast's okay," said Spike. He was feeling decidedly 'green' and his stomach gave a threatening gurgle at the thought of eggs.

He nibbled a piece of toast half-heartedly and drank some orange juice. As soon as it got to his stomach it seemed like it had turned to acid. Spike quickly got up and went to the bathroom, getting to the toilet just in time before throwing up what little he'd eaten. He brushed his teeth, splashed some cold water on his face, drying it with a towel and heading back out. Rupert noticed how deathly pale he looked.

"Are you all right?"

Spike nodded.

"Ready to go then?"

Spike nodded again, put on his leather coat and picked up his knapsack, slinging it over his shoulder and following Rupert to the car.

Ooooooo

Spike was starting to zone out. He and Rupert were in Principal Snyder's office and Snyder was telling him what a hard act William would be to follow, that his grades weren't anywhere near as impressive and that he hoped he had a good attitude like William had and so on and so on.

"Is that what you think, James?" asked Snyder. When he got no response he barked the name again.

"James!"

"Huh? Oh sorry, wot was that?" asked Spike.

"I asked you if you thought school was more about friends than learning," snapped Snyder.

"Um…learning, obviously," answered Spike.

"Well, make sure you put that into practice."

"Erm…I will." Rupert nudged him, "I will, sir," he added.

"Now go along to your first class, which is history. The bell for start of classes will be going off shortly," said Snyder, giving Spike directions to the classroom.

"Okay," said Spike. Snyder glared at him, "Sir."

"I'll be watching you," said Snyder ominously.

Ooooooo

"Okay, 'ere goes," muttered Spike as he pushed open the door to his first class.

The teacher wasn't there yet and the students were sitting chatting away with each other about what they'd been doing over the weekend. He took a deep breath, drew himself up to his full height and did his best to saunter into the room as if he didn't have a care in the world. The room fell silent. They'd been told on Friday that William's cousin would be starting class on Monday; but whatever they'd expected William's cousin to look like it certainly wasn't the bleach haired, leather clad youth in front of them. Spike scanned the room for a vacant seat. He ignored the one at the front and settled himself in one in the right hand back corner of the room. Everyone was staring at him and he was amazed he wasn't blushing, but blushing was what William did, not Spike. He didn't smile at anyone or speak but met and held their gaze until it was they who broke eye contact.

The teacher walked in - it was Mrs. Bernstein. Spike resisted the urge to groan, she was so boring. Luckily he'd never had any classes with her apart from when she filled in for others when they were ill, but he knew these classes were going to seem like they lasted forever. He glanced at the others in the class, not sure if he was pleased that Buffy, Willow, Xander or Oz weren't in the class or not; and he'd yet to meet Angel.

For the second time that morning he was lost in his own thoughts and didn't react to his name being spoken.

"Mr. Norman!" shrieked Mrs. Bernstein.

"Wot?" said Spike, snapping back to reality.

"Please stand up and tell the class a little about yourself."

"Yer kiddin', right?" he said,

How could she ask him to do that? The whole bloody school knew what had happened. A couple of kids snickered at his reply.

"No, I am not. Now please do as I say," bristled the teacher.

Spike stood up, his chair scraping on the floor as he did so.

"Um," he said, _"Great start, Spike, real eloquent,"_ he chided himself, "I'm James Norman, but I only answer to Spike," he said, staring at Mrs. Bernstein as he spoke, "An' I reckon you lot know everything you need to know about me already. I've 'ad to come 'ere 'cause my folks were killed in a car crash. Do I need to say anything else? Or was that enough?"

Mrs. Bernstein was flustered, "Er…no that's fine…er...James…thank you."

"Spike," he said, enjoying her discomfort.

"I'm sorry?"

"Weren't you listening? My name's Spike, right? My folks called me James an' I don't want anyone else to, okay?"

He sat down. _"God, where did that come from?"_ He just seemed to get angry or frustrated so easily these days.

The rest of the morning passed uneventfully. He made his way to the cafeteria; he was starving since he'd not kept any of his breakfast down. He queued up and bought sandwiches, a piece of cake and a Coke, planning on taking them outside to eat, not quite up to sitting there alone with all eyes on him. After he paid he turned to leave, not looking where he was going as he put his change in his jeans pocket, and he bumped into someone. He was just about to apologise when he realised it was Angel.

"_Crap!"_ thought William.

"_Sod 'im!"_ thought Spike, taking over from William's panic.

"Watch where you're going," snarled Angel, glaring at Spike.

Spike coolly met his eyes. "Yer Angel, right?"

"Yeah I am, how do you know that, new boy?"

"Was easy, see, William told me there was this big prick…"

Angel went to grab at him but stopped short as he heard Snyder shout.

"Ah, Mr. O'Connor, you're making our newest student welcome I see?"

"Yes, sir. I was just telling him how great Sunnydale High is," said Angel without missing a beat.

"That so, Mr. Norman?" asked Snyder, looking carefully at Spike.

"That's right," said Spike, "Sir."

Snyder glared at the two boys for a second or two then turned and walked away. Spike stepped past Angel and went outside. He sat on the first bench he came to, legs weak after the encounter.

"Christ, have I got a death wish?" he muttered.

Oooooo

Back in the cafeteria Buffy went to sit with her friends.

"Hey Buff, you just missed it," said Xander.

"Missed what?"

"William's cousin and Angel," he replied.

"What? That goon's not picking up where he left off bullying William, is he? God, I hate him," said Buffy.

"More like a stand off," added Willow, "We thought they were going to fight but then Snyder came in and William's cousin went outside."

"So what's he like? He's going to be in our English class later, isn't he? Is he like William?" her voice cracked a little as she spoke.

"Um, not really," replied Willow.

"Bleached hair," said Xander.

"Great leather coat," said Oz.

"Looks tough," said Willow.

"Oh?" said Buffy a bit disappointed; she'd hoped he might be a little like William.

To be continued……..


	18. Chapter 18

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: I only own the plot!

Chapter Eighteen

After lunch Spike made his way to his English class. He got there early hoping to slip in pretty well unnoticed. There was only one student in the class so he just went and chose a desk at the back hoping no one would ask him to move. He pulled out his notebook and started doodling; keeping his head down, then he heard it. It was Buffy's voice; she was walking into the classroom with Willow.

"…so I've got to work at the gallery again on Saturday but the good thing is Mom's okay about me going to The Bronze on Friday, so what time shall we get there?"

"Cool," replied Willow "Shall we say eight? Shame the Dingoes aren't playing but Devon and Oz keep falling out."

Spike was frozen; he couldn't move, his heart was pounding.

"Um, excuse me, I know you're new but…er…I usually sit there." A timid voice said in his ear.

"Wot?" He glanced briefly at the voice's owner but was still focussing on Buffy and Willow.

The timid boy took in the scar on his face, his bleached hair and the rumour going round the school that he'd stood up to Angel and decided discretion was the better part of valour and backed away.

"Oh, nothing, you're okay," he said, taking a seat nearer to the front.

Spike barely registered the guy at all but Buffy scowled as she saw Jerry back away from him and sit at the front. She looked across at Spike but he had his head down. She could see the crescent-shaped scar around his left eye and felt a pang of pain in her heart knowing that the scar marked the day William had died.

To Spike's relief Buffy and Willow sat a row in front of him and to his left. He watched her surreptitiously for the whole class; he remembered the feel of her body leaning back against his in The Bronze that night. Why hadn't she called him? He didn't participate in the class at all, not putting his hand up to answer questions even thought he knew them. He was aware of nothing but Buffy. When the bell rang he was the first on his feet. He pulled on his duster and strode out of the classroom. He had a fraction of a limp on his left leg but not enough to slow him down. The coat billowed out behind him.

Buffy and Willow watched him go with curiosity.

"Must be tough having to move out here after losing your parents and all," said Willow.

"Yeah, but did you see how poor Jerry backed away from him and let him keep his seat? He looked scared," said Buffy, "No need for him to be like that with him."

Ooooooo

Spike went to find Rupert in the library; he pushed the door open to see him half hidden by a huge pile of books on the table in the centre of the room.

"How did your first day go?" he asked when he saw Spike.

"Okay, I suppose. Wot are yer doin'?"

"Oh, they had all these books in the wrong categories. No wonder no one could find anything, it'll take me weeks to sort this out. It's a total mess," said Rupert, "I'd like to do another hour or so before I go home. Want to help?"

"Er," said Spike, "Okay."

"Really?" said Rupert.

"Yeah, I don't mind," he replied. It wasn't like he had anything else to do.

The two worked diligently for an hour and a half in the end, clearing the table of books.

"That's a great help, thank you," said Rupert when they were leaving, "I can get the next section started tomorrow."

Ooooooo

The next few days at school passed uneventfully. Spike was silent in all his classes and took his lunch outside to eat alone. He didn't try to talk to anyone and the students didn't make any effort to talk to him, partly because they didn't know what to say given the tragic circumstances and partly that he didn't look very receptive to being approached.

Now it was Friday afternoon and the thing he'd been dreading the whole week. The time had come for the promised memorial service for William Pratt. He'd argued with Rupert that morning about how he didn't want to attend. Rupert had stood firm and told him he had to and that it would be insensitive not to. So here he was making his way to the hall. He couldn't walk any slower otherwise he'd be stationary. Rupert appeared in the corridor in front of him.

"There you are!" he exclaimed, "Come along, hurry up."

Spike upped his pace a little and the pair entered the hall. He balked when Rupert led him to the stage at the front.

"Wot? No way," said Spike, "I'm not going up on there."

"Yes, you are," said Rupert firmly, "Principal Snyder expects you to be up on there with me and it's disrespectful to William's memory if you don't."

"_Oh, Christ!"_ thought Spike as he walked up the steps and took a seat.

The hall slowly filled with students. Spike resolutely looked at his feet throughout Snyder waxing lyrical about William, judging him only by his academic achievement, and not knowing the bullying he endured or anything about him as a person at all.

When Rupert went to the front and started to speak, Spike could endure it no longer. He leapt up, knocking his chair over, and jumped down the six steps off the stage in one bound, wincing as his left ankle protested at the jar it received when he landed. Then he ran from the hall as if the hounds of hell were on his heels, his feet loud on the wooden floor, duster billowing out behind him. Every head turned and watched him leave.

He ran until he reached the front of the school. He sat down on the steps and put his head in his hands and groaned. He didn't know how long he'd sat there before he heard footsteps approach, they stopped in front of him.

"Hey, man, are you okay?"

Spike looked up; he hadn't mistaken the voice, it was Oz.

"No, mate, I'm not, I'm really not," he said honestly.

Oz sat down next to him.

"Not surprising."

"Suppose not."

"It'll get easier," replied Oz, a big speech for him. He sat there for a while longer then stood up. "I liked William." He put his hand on Spike's shoulder for a moment before he walked away.

Ooooooo

Rupert and Spike travelled home in silence. Spike went to his room as soon as they got in; it wasn't until they sat down to eat dinner that Rupert spoke.

"That was quite an exit you made. Do you want to talk about it?"

"Sorry if I embarrassed you," said Spike, sounding anything but.

"You didn't embarrass me; that's not what I meant. It's just you haven't really talked to me about the loss you've suffered, not even went we went to the memorial gardens where their ashes were placed. I'm worried about you."

"Wot can I say? That I wish it hadn't happened? Won't change anythin' will it? Would've been easier if I'd died too," he replied flatly.

"No, it would not!" said Rupert adamantly, "Don't say that, James!"

Spike flinched and closed his eyes.

"Don't call me that," he said, "please."

"How are you getting along with the other students?" asked Rupert, changing the subject quickly.

"Uh, okay I guess," not wanting to say he'd barely spoken to any of them. "Um, was wondering if it'd be okay for me to go out tonight? There's this place called The Bronze, everybody's goin'."

"Yes, of course you can, it'll be good for you to go out and socialise a little," said Rupert, "Do you want a ride to it?"

"No," said Spike, "I know the way, I…er…got directions, thanks."

"Okay, give me a ring if you want a ride home," said Rupert, pleased that Spike wanted to go out, especially after what he said earlier.

To be continued…….


	19. Chapter 19

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: I own merely the plot!

Chapter Nineteen

The Bronze was crowded when Spike got there just after nine p.m. He had barely taken three steps in when he saw Buffy. She was on the dance floor with a boy he recognised from his English class but didn't know his name.

"_No wonder she didn't call me,"_ he thought bitterly as he walked to the bar to get a drink.

He had hoped she might have tried to talk to him, okay, so he ran out of English that first day but she'd passed him a couple of times and not made any effort to talk.

He got to the bar and stood waiting to be served. He glanced round the club - Willow and Oz were snuggled up together on a couch with Xander, looking a tad embarrassed, sitting on a stool next to them. The music changed and Buffy and the boy sat with the others. He wondered if he dare to go up and talk to them once he got his drink? He was still debating what to do when the barman spoke,

"What can I get you?"

Spike reluctantly tore his eyes away from Buffy.

"Um, a Coke, please." He started to pull his money out of his jeans pocket.

"It's okay, I'll get this, and I'll have two more."

Spike froze - the voice was Angel's. He turned to look at him.

"I'll pay for mine, thanks," he said.

"Nah, you can get the next round," grinned Angel as he put his arm around Spike's shoulder.

He'd never found it harder to keep the 'Spike' persona going; what was Angel playing at?

"This is my buddy Davey," said Angel.

"Um, hi," said Spike weakly.

"You're James, right?" said Davey.

"Spike, call me Spike," he replied.

"So, Spike, how are you finding life in Sunnydale?" asked Angel.

"Er….I 'ate it, mate," said Spike, finding his nerve finally.

Angel laughed, "It's not that bad, Spike!"

Angel led them off to a table at the back of the club. As he walked toward it the people sitting there got up and walked away.

"Oh look, some empty seats." He grinned at Spike.

"Cool," said Spike, not really knowing what else to say.

They sat down and Davey pulled out a bottle from his jacket pocket.

"Want some?" he asked and poured a shot into all their drinks before Spike could answer.

Angel watched Spike as he took the first sip of the drink. Spike smiled when he tasted it - it was vodka and he remembered the Karaoke night. He took a bigger sip, liking the way the liquor burned on its way down. He looked at Angel and grinned.

"Cheers, mate."

"_This has got to be way better than moping and hurting"_, he thought, eerily echoing his Mom's way to escape from a reality she couldn't cope with.

"All right!" said Angel. The three of them 'chinked' their plastic cups together.

After a couple more vodka-laced Cokes each, the three of them were laughing and joking loudly, drawing worried glances from those around them - when Angel got tanked up it usually ended in trouble.

"Uh oh," said Willow, noticing Spike sitting between Angel and Davey, "Looks like the new boy's found some great company."

"What, William's cousin?" asked Buffy, looking round, "God, what's he doing with Angel? Surely William must have told him what a pig he is?"

"The fact that you're getting bullied isn't something a guy would tell everybody, Buff," said Xander.

"Yeah, perhaps he doesn't know what a sleazoid Angel is," added Willow.

"He's been through a lot, I don't think he's coping too well," said Oz.

They all looked at him.

"How do you know that?" asked Buffy.

"Well firstly, it's pretty obvious something like he's had happen to him would screw him up, and secondly I saw him today when William's memorial was on. I was late 'cause I'd had to go to the dentist and I found him sitting out on the front steps, head in his hands, not moving," replied Oz, "I asked him if he was okay and he said he wasn't. I sat with him for a minute or two and then left. He didn't say much."

"That's a case of the pot calling the kettle black," joked Xander, "I think that's the longest speech that I've heard you utter!"

Oz thumped Xander on his arm.

Willow looked back at Spike sandwiched between the two goons. They'd stopped putting the liquor into their Cokes and were taking turns swigging from the bottle.

"So, what you're saying is that he's probably pretty vulnerable right now and that Angel will hone in on that and take advantage of him?" asked Willow.

"Er, yeah," said Oz, "Nicely put."

"Thanks." She smiled and kissed him on the cheek, which he returned by kissing her properly on the mouth.

"And that is my cue to go and get us some more drinks," said Buffy, "Same again, everyone?" she stood up and as she did the boy she'd danced with started to get up too.

"I'll give you a hand," he said.

"No, Mick, it's okay, I can manage," said Buffy and she walked to the bar.

Willow and Xander exchanged a little 'look', knowing that their efforts to fix Buffy up with Mick had failed miserably. She just wasn't interested.

Ooooooo

"I'm gonna get another Coke," said Spike, "Want one?"

Angel and Davey shook their heads, content to carry on drinking the vodka neat. Spike hadn't the tolerance for alcohol like they had since he'd barely drunk before, so he needed to get something to dilute it. He stood up and swayed as he did so, making Angel and Davey laugh.

"Is it me or is it 'ot in 'ere?" said Spike, taking off his jacket and leaving it on the chair. He went to the bar, he misjudged the distance as he went to lean on it and bumped into a girl who was paying for some drinks. She turned to glare at him.

"Be careful," she said.

"'Ello pet, I'm Spike," said Spike with a grin.

"You're drunk," said Buffy, wrinkling her nose.

"A little bit," he replied. He saw her eyes fall on the tattoo on his right arm. "Like that, do yer? It means bravery." His words slurred slightly.

"Should be stupidity," she retorted.

"Wot?" he snapped, anger flashing in his eyes.

"For hanging out with Angel and Davey," she said, "William hated them, they gave him hell." She picked up the drinks and walked back to her friends.

He watched her walk away. "Well, they're not giving William hell now, are they? Being friendlier than the likes of you," he muttered. He turned away from the bar not bothering to buy the soda. He sat back down with a thump in the seat next to Davey and took a long swig of the vodka.

"_Sod 'er,"_ he thought.

Ooooooo

Buffy handed the others their drinks.

"I'm not sure your theory about Spike Norman is right, Will," she said as she sat back down. "I think maybe he's just found his own sort to hang out with. He's drunk and he has a tattoo."

"Gasp! Horror!" said Xander, "Both marks of being a bad guy without exception. God, Buffy, I can't believe you just said that. What's wrong with having a tattoo?"

"Well, you guys haven't felt the need to get one done and Angel has that one on the back of his shoulder, so that proves my point," she replied.

"Xander hasn't gotten a tattoo 'cause he fainted at the sight of the needle," joked Willow, "You went to get one last summer, remember?"

"Willow!" said Xander sharply, "Save my manly pride, please."

"Go on, Will, what happened?" encouraged Oz.

"Xander fainted before the needle even touched the guy who was having his done before him," laughed Willow, the others joining in, "The tattooist never got close."

"Thanks, Willow," said Xander grumpily, making the others laugh even more.

Ooooooo

When it was time to go home Mick asked Buffy if he could walk her home. She thanked him very sweetly but refused the offer, knowing the price of being walked home would be that he'd expect a kiss and she didn't want to kiss him. He took the hint with good grace and headed off home. Xander walked with Buffy, Willow going with Oz in his van.

Spike reeled as the fresh air hit him, making him feel even more intoxicated. He said his goodbyes to Angel and Davey and staggered in the direction of home. It wasn't until he got there that he realised he'd gone to his old home, "William's" house, rather than Rupert's apartment.

"Shit," he said when he saw where he was.

He kicked at the falling-down fence, breaking a few more planks before turning round and going to Rupert's apartment. He let himself in as quietly as he could after fumbling with getting the key into the lock. He went and lay down on his bed not bothering to get undressed. The room started spinning. When he closed his eyes, it spun even faster. A wave of nausea hit him and he raced to the bathroom and was violently sick. He stumbled back to bed and this time propped himself up so he was sitting in order to stop things spinning quite so badly before he fell asleep.

To be continued……..


	20. Chapter 20

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: I own merely the plot!

Chapter Twenty

"Spike!" Rupert called before knocking on the door to his bedroom, "Are you going to get up at all today?"

Spike woke up then promptly wished he hadn't; his head was pounding.

"Er, yeah, just gimme a minute okay?" replied Spike. He swung his feet over the edge of the bed, realising as his feet hit the floor that he hadn't even taken his boots off the night before.

"Your friend's here, so don't be long," said Rupert.

"Who?" asked Spike. He didn't get an answer as Rupert had moved out of earshot.

"Sorry about having to wait, Angel, he'll be out shortly," said Rupert.

"That's okay, Mr. Giles, I'm probably a bit early anyway," said Angel politely, sitting on the couch in response to Rupert's gesture.

"Would you like a drink while you wait? Tea? Coffee?"

"A coffee would be great, thank you, Mr. Giles," replied Angel. He looked around the apartment as Rupert went to make the drinks. _"Mm, nice place."_

Spike swapped his t-shirt before coming out of his room so Rupert wouldn't realise he'd slept in his clothes. A glance at his watch told him it was nearly twelve noon. He wondered who had come around to the apartment since he hadn't told anyone where he lived. He stopped short when he saw Angel sitting there on the couch.

"Hey Spike, did you forget I said I'd come over?" asked Angel with a grin.

"Um, yeah," said Spike. Had he really arranged it? He couldn't remember at all, then again he didn't remember that much about the previous evening.

"I'm not surprised, replied Angel, "You were pretty wasted."

Spike cast an anxious glance towards the kitchen and gave Angel a 'look'.

"Keep it down," he hissed.

"'S okay, he can't hear us," said Angel.

Spike was just about to ask what they'd arranged to do when Rupert reappeared. He handed both boys a cup of coffee.

"You look like you need this," he said as he gave the cup to Spike.

"Thanks. I do." He took it gratefully.

Spike declined the offer of something to eat. He went and had a wash and swallowed down a couple of painkillers for his headache.

"C'mon, lets go out," he said when he came back into the room. He pulled on his leather jacket and Angel followed him out.

They wandered along in silence for a while.

"I can't remember telling you where I lived," said Spike.

"You must have otherwise how'd I know where to come?" said Angel reasonably.

"I suppose," said Spike.

"Don't you want to hang out with me? Got other plans?" asked Angel.

"It's not that it's just…well, why do you want to hang out with me?" said Spike, "I know what you're like…er…William told me what you were like."

"Yeah, I know. I gave William hell. Did he really call me a prick?" said Angel, smiling at Spike.

"No, that was me, but he was scared of you. He had a shit life and you helped make it that way," replied Spike.

"I know and I feel kind of bad about that, especially with what happened, but the guy was pathetic. I just couldn't resist it."

"So is that why you're hanging out with me? 'Cause you feel bad about bullying William?" snapped Spike, "I don't need yer bleedin' guilt trip, mate."

He increased his pace. Angel jogged a few steps to catch him up.

"Hey, chill out," said Angel, "It's not that at all; it's the way you stood up to me in the cafeteria. It's been a long time since anyone stood up to me like that so I figured we'd get along okay, two of a kind."

Spike stopped.

"I'm nothing like you, Angel," he said flatly.

"Aw come on, Spike, give me a break. You had a good time last night, didn't you?"

Spike relaxed a bit, "Yeah I did, it was fun but I feel like shite now. I drank too much."

"You know the answer to that don't you?" said Angel, "Have another drink." He pulled out a flat bottle from his jacket pocket, "Here you go. Just what the doctor ordered."

"No, I don't think so, mate," replied Spike.

"Suit yourself," snapped Angel. He took a swig himself then started to put it back. "Perhaps I was wrong about you. Perhaps you're just as pathetic as William was," he added with a sneer.

Spike took the bottle from Angel's hand and gulped down a mouthful. He'd rather do anything than have Angel start picking on him again.

"That's more like it," said Angel, putting his arm round him, _"Like candy from a baby. Going to be fun putting you down Mr. 'Thinks I'm tough' Englishman."_

He'd heard the rumours around the school last week after Spike had stood up to him, that Angel had perhaps met his match in Spike. He had planned on just severely kicking hisbutt but when he saw Spike had been alone all week and looking pretty miserable about it he decided on a different course of action….

Ooooooo

Angel had been right, Spike did feel better after another drink and by the time he'd had another couple of shots he was feeling no pain whatsoever. The pair had met up with Davey in the mall; they walked around looking for trouble. Angel stole a bag of potato chips and some chocolate and they sat and munched them directly opposite the store he'd stolen them from.

"So why did you steal them?" asked Spike, "they only cost a few dollars, why risk gettin' caught for so little?"

"So you think we should aim for bigger stuff?" said Angel.

"No, that's not what I said."

"Christ, stop worrying," moaned Angel, "Have another drink and loosen up."

He held out the now nearly empty bottle of liquor, his expression daring Spike to refuse. He didn't - he took the bottle and drained the last of it.

"Come on," said Angel.

"Where are we going?" asked Davey.

"I'm gonna get me that t-shirt I've had my eye on and Spike here's gonna help me."

"Wot?" exclaimed Spike, "I'm not 'elpin' you steal stuff."

"You a broken record?" sneered Angel. He got hold of the lapels of Spike's jacket, "Last chance, English, you with me or against me?"

Spike looked at Angel, it was hard not to really since the guy's face was barely six inches away from his own. He knew that if he didn't agree that that would be it. Angel and Davey would beat him up and then it'd just be like old times at school.

"Okay, okay. Christ, mate," said Spike, "I'll 'elp yer."

Angel let him go, smoothing his jacket down as he did so.

"Cool."

They went to the store. Angel told Spike what he wanted him to do so Spike walked in and over to the assistant.

"Er…excuse me," said Spike, emphasising his English accent. "Can yer give me a bit of 'elp please? These sizes are a bit confusing," he added holding up a shoe, "they're not the same as back 'ome."

"Oh, you're English?" said the assistant, a man about Rupert's age but short and round, "What part are you from?"

"London," said Spike glancing back at Angel in time to see him stuff a t-shirt under his jacket and walk out of the store.

"London? I'd love to visit London," sighed the assistant, "So what are you doing over here, visiting relatives?"

"Just moved out 'ere to live," said Spike.

"What English shoe size are you?" asked the assistant.

Spike made a big show of looking at his watch.

"Oh God, I'm sorry, I didn't realise the time. Look, I'll 'ave to come back another day," he said as he turned and left the store. Once outside he spotted Angel and Davey in the distance and ran to catch them up.

"Told you it would be easy. Soon as anyone hears your accent they're too busy listening to you to notice anything else. Here, I got one for you too. Hope it fits," grinned Angel, tossing Spike a t-shirt.

"Thanks," he said, returning Angel's grin. His heart was still beating a little faster than normal even though technically he hadn't actually stolen anything.

The three of them walked along heading for the exit from the mall. Angel got to the door first.

"Oh, look who it is! Little Miss Prim and Proper and her geeky friend," sneered Angel, stepping to the side as Buffy and Willow walked in.

"Shut up, Angel," said Buffy, brushing past him.

Spike looked her in the eye. This was his chance to talk to her, the liquor in his system taking away most of his shyness.

"Hi, Buffy," he said.

She didn't reply, just looked at the t-shirt that he was holding. He glanced down at it and saw that the price tags were showing, the lack of a bag giving the game away that it hadn't been purchased. He put it behind his back guiltily. When he brought his eyes back up to meet hers he almost stepped back, she was looking at him with such disgust.

"Come on, Willow," she said to her friend, "Don't want to be near the likes of these assholes for long."

"Such a way with words," sneered Davey.

Spike stood there watching Buffy walk away.

"Don't you worry about her," said Angel, putting his arm around Spike, "She was always full of herself and this term she's volunteered for half of the dorky schemes her pet geek helps out with."

Spike still couldn't take his eyes away from Buffy's swiftly departing back. His heart was in his boots; was it only a few weeks ago when he'd stood with his arms around her at The Bronze? He'd hoped she'd want to be friends with Spike but that looked extremely unlikely.

"Come on," said Angel, pulling his arm, "she's a stuck-up cow."

Spike allowed Angel to drag him out of the mall. The three of them separated and went home, arranging to meet at The Bronze again that evening.

"Your turn to bring the liquor," said Angel as Spike turned for home.

"Uh, okay," said Spike, wondering where the hell he'd get some from.

Ooooooo

"Have a good time?" asked Rupert as Spike walked in.

"Yeah, it was okay," he replied, hiding the t-shirt under his jacket as he walked to his room.

"I thought we could go out for a meal later," said Rupert, "First week in the new job and new school over and done with."

Spike paused, "Er…I'm going out with Angel and Davey tonight."

"Again?" said Rupert, "Where are you going?"

"The Bronze," he replied.

"I'm not too happy about you going to the club two nights in a row, especially since you didn't surface until noon," said Rupert.

"Wot? Are yer tellin' me I can't go?" said Spike belligerently.

"No." replied Rupert carefully, "I'm not stopping you going but next week don't organise to go twice. Once is enough, you've got schoolwork to do don't forget."

"I 'aven't forgotten," snapped Spike, "I'm just tryin' to fit in. That's wot yer want me to do, don't yer?"

"Yes, I want you to make friends but I think two nights at a club is too much. I've got to set some ground rules, Spike; it's not unreasonable."

"Okay, okay," said Spike and he went into his room.

He threw his duster on the bed and pulled the price tags off the t-shirt before sitting on the bed.

"_Great day, Spike. You piss off Buffy again, then piss off Rupert."_

He had had fun with Angel though; he'd never really 'hung out' with anyone apart from the few weeks in England with James. He turned on his laptop to see if he had any e-mails from Rich.

An hour later he emerged to go and have a shower before going out.

"I've ordered in a pizza, it'll be here soon," said Rupert, hoping the atmosphere would clear.

"That's great, thanks, I'm starving," replied Spike, "Just havin' a shower. I'm sorry about before - I should 'ave asked yer first."

"_Oh, thank God." _Rupert had been worried Spike would resent him setting rules.

When the pizza arrived the two of them ate companionably. At eight p.m. Spike went out to meet Angel. He'd looked through the cupboards in the apartment but couldn't find any alcohol in the place. Without fake ID he'd never be able to buy any. He resigned himself to being ridiculed by Angel when he remembered where he'd be able to get some- his old house. His mom always had plenty about the house; he felt a stab of grief hit him when he thought of her.

He walked to his former home and went around to the back door to unlock it with the key he'd got from under the stone. He went straight to the cupboard beneath the sink. Sure enough at the back he found his mom's emergency bottle; the one she always thought he'd not known about. He pulled it out, put it into the deep pocket of the duster and quickly locked up and left, not noticing Mrs. Johnson peering out of the window of her house next door, scowling as she saw the bleached haired youth striding down the path.

Ooooooo

Angel and Davey weren't there when Spike arrived. He made his way over to the chairs where they'd sat the night before, there were kids sitting in them but Spike thought he'd just wait near them. He was astonished when, like the previous evening, they got up and walked away.

He grinned as he sat down, quite enjoying the feeling of power it gave, knowing he used to be the one moving away. He put his feet up on the low table in front of him. About ten minutes later Angel and Davey arrived. They bought three Cokes before joining Spike.

"Did you get it?" asked Davey.

"Did yer think I wouldn't?" countered Spike, pulling out the bottle. He'd already had some and was feeling pretty mellow.

"Knew you wouldn't let me down," said Angel, sitting down.

The evening flew past in a blur to Spike. The vodka clouded everything but he welcomed it. It was easier than thinking too much - that had been William's problem, not Spike's he decided, taking another slug.

"It's boring in here tonight," said Angel, "Let's go somewhere else."

Spike squinted at his watch - it was ten thirty. He stood and followed Angel and Davey. As Angel passed a table of guys who were steadfastly keeping their eyes averted, he picked up one of the drinks and with a laugh poured it over the head of the nearest boy.

"Oops," he said.

The boy didn't react, knowing it would only make things worse. Davey followed suit with the next boy. Spike picked up a drink but stopped short of pouring it over its owner, a flashback to Angel doing it to him in the cafeteria before the summer vacation preventing him from following through. He poured it on the table and then batted the rest of the drinks over with a sneer and caught up with the others.

The trio made their way to the park. They sat on the swings taking turns drinking the vodka. Spike was so drunk by this time that he didn't notice that Angel and Davey were faking drinking it.

Angel smirked as he watched Spike drinking it. _"Oh yes, it might take a bit of time but the end result would be great. Stupid English creep so desperate to fit in with me he'll soon do anything I want."_

To be continued……


	21. Chapter 21

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: I own merely the plot 

Chapter Twenty-One

Spike split up from Angel and Davey and headed for home. He still had the remains of the vodka with him and kept having a swig as he tottered along. Again he had trouble finding the lock with the key, he peered at it intently until finally the key found its place. He tripped up as he went in and giggled as he shut the door. He'd just got in his room and was sitting on his bed taking his boots off when he heard Rupert coming down the stairs.

"Spike? Are you home?" Rupert called, rapping gently on the door.

Spike quickly shoved the bottle under the bed and replied, "Yeah."

"Can I come in?"

"Um, suppose so," said Spike, trying to concentrate on acting sober.

The door swung open.

"You're back very late," said Rupert evenly.

Spike looked at his watch and then back at Rupert.

"Didn't know I 'ad a curfew."

Rupert sighed, "You don't, or rather you didn't; but in the future you have to be home by eleven thirty. I've been worried."

Spike bit back an angry retort and just settled for "Okay" in the hope that Rupert would leave his room.

Rupert looked at him a bit too carefully for Spike's comfort.

"Good," he said, "So what have you been doing until nearly one in the morning?"

"Just hanging out," muttered Spike.

"Where? I know The Bronze closes at eleven thirty," said Rupert.

Spike brought his head up sharply.

"Yer checking up on me?"

"I checked what time the place closed and I thought you'd be back soon afterwards. So where were you just 'hanging out'?"

"The park," replied Spike.

"Doing what?"

Spike stood up, he swayed a little but soon regained his balance and walked a couple of paces across the room.

"Just talkin', that's all. Tellin' 'em about England and about being smashed up in bleedin' 'ospital. Just trying to do wot yer want me to do, fit in; make friends," shouted Spike.

"Okay," said Rupert calmly, "No need to shout. I know it's not easy for you."

Spike sat down in the chair near his desk. He struggled to keep his emotions in check, his anger threatening to give way to tears. He looked at Rupert.

"I'm tired," he said simply, holding his gaze.

"All right, I'll leave you to it. We'll do something tomorrow, okay? Go out for lunch or something."

"Great," said Spike with zero enthusiasm.

Rupert left his room and Spike heard him go back up to his bedroom. After a couple of minutes Spike went to the bathroom, brushing his teeth and having a wash. He looked at himself in the mirror, leaning forward until his forehead touched the cool glass. He closed his eyes and stood there for some time.

"God, I miss you, mom," he whispered as tears fell down his cheeks.

He stood up, sniffed a few times, wiped his eyes and went to his room. He sat on the bed, leaned his head back against the wall and went to sleep.

Oooooo

For the second consecutive day Spike felt terrible when he woke up. It was still early and there was no sign of Rupert stirring yet. As he got up he knocked his watch off of the table at the side of his bed. He bent to pick it up but it had fallen under the bed. He felt for it with his hand but the first thing it touched was the vodka bottle. He pulled it out and looked at it thoughtfully. In his mind he could see his mom having her first drink of the day. She usually put it in her orange juice, convincing herself no doubt that it was only orange juice. Part of him screamed to throw it away, pour it down the sink but the thought of it dulling the pain he felt was just too strong to resist. He unscrewed the cap and pulled a face as he drank a mouthful. He put the cap back on and shoved the bottle beneath his bed once more, picked up his watch, placed it on the table and went for a shower.

By the time Rupert was up, Spike was dressed and starting to make breakfast for them both.

"Mornin'" he said when he saw Rupert.

"Good morning, you've been busy," said Rupert, smiling at him.

"Breakfast won't be long, kettle's on for yer tea," said Spike, putting some toast on the table.

"I could get used to this," joked Rupert, reaching for one of two glasses of juice on the table.

Spike snatched the one he was reaching for.

"That's mine, this is yours," he said, pushing the other to Rupert, "Already drank some of it," he added by way of explanation and he took another sip.

Oooooo

Once they'd eaten they left the apartment to go to explore the local area. Spike had to pretend he didn't know it at all. Rupert pulled the car to a stop on a road that was lined with galleries and shops selling antiques and such like.

"Thought we could have a look around here, perhaps I'll find something nice for the apartment?" said Rupert.

"Wot, like a new couch?" asked Spike with a grin. The one in the apartment was now avoided by both of them as it was so uncomfortable.

"I was thinking more along the lines of a painting or a statue," replied Rupert.

Spike had never been to this part of town, his mom had no interest in the arts and since he never had any money he'd never bothered to look around. It was when they walked into the third shop, a small gallery selling artefacts from all over the world, that Spike got a bit of a shock - behind the counter was Buffy's mom.

"Hello," she said, "Please feel free to have a look around and just ask if you need any help."

"Thank you," said Rupert, "It looks like you have some interesting pieces."

They were at the back of the shop when Spike heard Buffy.

"Where do you want this to go, Mom?" she asked, stepping out of the storeroom just in front of Spike.

"Bring it to the counter. It needs packaging up to be ready to be mailed out tomorrow," came the reply.

Buffy's eyes widened when she saw Spike standing there. She sidestepped him and went swiftly to the counter, putting the African mask she was carrying down then turning round to walk back to Spike. He smiled at her as she approached – great, this was his chance to talk to her properly.

"Hi, Buffy," he said rather shyly.

"If you steal anything from here I'll kill you," she hissed when she got to him.

"Wot? I'd never do that," he muttered.

"Oh? So that t-shirt just jumped into your hand yesterday, did it?"

"But….I didn't…er…" stuttered Spike.

"Save it, but I'm warning you, you try to steal from my mom and I'll make sure they know you stole stuff from the mall too." She walked back to the counter, leaning on it and watching him intently.

Spike felt his face redden. He tried to carry on looking at things with Rupert but could feel her eyes burning into him.

"Um, I'll wait outside," said Spike to Rupert, "Need a bit of air."

"Not surprised with you having that coat on all the time," smiled Rupert.

Spike glanced at Buffy as he walked past. He thought about trying to talk to her but the look on her face put him off. He stalked outside.

"Sod it!" he cried, kicking at a bench then yelping as his toes stung with pain.

To be continued………


	22. Chapter 22

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: I own merely the plot!

Chapter Twenty-Two

The next month passed uneventfully enough, with Spike meeting up with Angel and Davey at school each day. At lunchtime the three of them would sit in the bleachers drinking, or at least that's what Spike thought; in reality only his drink had alcohol in it. In the classroom he sat at the back and did the minimum amount of work possible. Each weekend they went to The Bronze. When Angel caused any trouble either at school or The Bronze, Spike managed to avoid actually having to join in. He just stayed on the sidelines laughing at the unfortunate recipient of Angel's attentions, but despite this his reputation as a troublemaker grew.

Oooooo

Spike joined up with Angel and Davey after school on Friday night, with the plan being to go drinking in the park before going to The Bronze. Since Angel had fake ID he was bringing the liquor. Spike was edgy; he wanted a drink and had given Angel enough cash to buy an extra bottle for him to have at home. He'd used up all the alcohol he could find in his old house, sneaking in there at night. His mom hadn't made a will so everything was taking a long time to sort out and apart from him taking the liquor the house remained untouched.

"Did yer get it?" asked Spike as soon as he saw Angel.

"Not yet," he replied.

"Shit! Why not?" complained Spike.

"Was running late that's all," said Angel, "Come on, we'll go and get it now."

Spike missed the 'look' that passed between Angel and Davey; all he was focussed on was getting a drink. They all went into the store, Spike hung back with Davey as Angel picked up two bottles of vodka and made his way to the counter.

"So what do you want to do?" asked Davey with an eye on Angel who was talking quietly on his cell phone. He'd caught a glimpse of a red haired girl and wondered if it was Willow and if it was, would Buffy be with her? He still hadn't managed to talk to her.

"_God, I need a drink. Wot's takin' Angel so long?"_

He glanced round to see Angel walking towards him.

"Here you go, buddy," said Angel, handing him two bottles.

They all walked to the door.

"Hey Angel, you've forgotten my beer," moaned Davey.

"Oh right, I'll go get it. What kind do you want?"

"I'll have a look," said Davey, "We'll catch up to you."

"Okay," said Spike, carrying on out of the door. He glanced up and down the street before unscrewing the top from one of the bottles and taking two long slugs from it. He closed his eyes, savouring the warmth it brought. He opened his eyes and took a couple of steps back. Two cops were standing in front of him.

"_Shit! Is there a law against being underage and drinking on the street?"_

"Can we see some ID?" asked the taller of the two officers.

"No," said Spike.

"No?" repeated the cop. He looked at his partner than back at Spike. "Wrong answer, give my partner the bottles."

"I only meant that I don't 'ave any on me at the moment."

"How about a receipt for the liquor?" asked cop number two, taking it from him.

"I didn't buy it." He looked around but there was no sign of Angel or Davey.

"We know that part." Cop number one said, "Come on, you're coming with us." He got hold of Spike's arm and pulled him forwards.

"Get yer 'ands off me. I've done nothin' wrong," protested Spike, trying to get free.

The officer swiftly changed his grip and pulled Spike's left arm painfully up behind his back. Spike arched his back trying to lesson the strain on his arm and was pushed along back to the entrance to the liquor store.

"That's him," said the shopkeeper, pointing at Spike, "About time you caught one of the thieving kids I have to put up with." He glared at Spike who glared back.

"I didn't steal anythin'. My mate bought it."

"So where is your friend now?" Cop number two asked.

Spike looked around desperately to his horror he didn't see Angel or Davey but Willow and Buffy walking towards him. He felt himself flush; his face was burning as she came nearer.

"Let's get you to the station," said number one, roughly pushing Spike into the patrol car.

Spike avoided Buffy's eyes as she looked at him in the car.

"God, he must have been caught stealing," said Buffy. "Serves him right."

"I wonder if he was like this in England?" said Willow.

"Why would it matter? I pity poor Mr. Giles having to put up with him," replied Buffy. She liked the new librarian.

"Just wondered if it was a reaction to losing his family, you know, a cry for help?" said Willow, always trying to see the good in people.

"No excuse for stealing," said Buffy with all the fervour of someone whose mom is in the retail trade, "and look what he's like at school, hanging out with Angel, joining in when he picks on kids. Poor William spending his last weeks with him and he was looking forward to the trip so much."

Willow looked at Buffy, "What, you don't think he'll have been like that with William, do you?"

"Who knows? But it didn't take him long to hook up with Angel. Even if William had never said anything to him, he's got to have known what Angel was like after a couple of days but he still hangs out with him."

"But no one else spoke to him Buffy. We didn't speak to him, didn't even tell him we were friends with William," replied Willow.

"Yeah, I know, but that first week we decided to leave him in peace. He looked so shut off we didn't know how to approach him, it wasn't like we could go up to him and say 'hi, we knew your dead cousin' could we?"

"When you put it like that…."

"And then when he started hanging out with Angel - to be honest I didn't want to talk to him. You saw he'd stolen that t-shirt from the mall, right?" continued Buffy, who tended to see everything in black and white.

"I know, I just can't help feeling a bit sorry for him though," said Willow.

"Mm," said Buffy noncommittally.

Ooooooo

This time, when seated in the back seat of the patrol car, Spike didn't have a kind policewoman at the side of him. He was sitting in it alone, with mesh separating him from the cops in the front of the car. At the station he was brought out of the car and taken into a small room, after he'd told them his name, age, and Rupert's name, address and telephone number.

"Wait here," ordered the cop.

Spike sat down at he table and looked around.

"_Christ, Rupert's going to freak out."_

He couldn't sit still; he got up and paced around the room. The door opened. He stood still as a plainclothes officer walked in, his suit crumpled and looking far from happy at being there.

"Sit down."

Spike hesitated, not out of defiance, more that he was too afraid to move.

"I said sit down," growled the cop walking up to Spike and looking down at him, he was at least six inches taller than him.

Spike sat.

"We're waiting for your guardian to arrive," he said.

Spike said nothing, just swallowed hard.

The cop sat there in silence for the next ten minutes until the door opened again and Rupert was shown in. Spike glanced up but looked back down quickly when he saw the look on Rupert's face.

"Mr. Giles," said the officer, "I'm Detective Roberts, thank you for getting here so quickly."

"What's going on? I wasn't told anything, just that Spike, er, James was here," said Rupert, the strain evident in his voice.

Rupert looked at Spike but he wouldn't meet his eye, just kept fiddling with his hands on the table.

"Sit down, sir," invited Detective Roberts. Rupert sat next to Spike, "I'm afraid James here was caught stealing two bottles of vodka."

"I didn't." said Spike quietly.

"What?"

"I keep tellin' yer but yer won't listen. I didn't pinch them," Spike looked at Rupert, "I didn't Rupert, 'onest."

Rupert looked at the officer. "What happened exactly?"

"I couldn't speak to James until you were here but two uniformed officers caught him with two bottles of vodka just outside the store. The owner identified him as being in the store and the security tape shows him walking out with them. He was drinking from one as the officers found him. James, what do you have to say about it?"

Spike glanced up at the two men.

"Um, I didn't steal them, I thought my mate 'ad paid for them."

"If that's so, where did he go to? There was no sign of anyone else there."

"I dunno," muttered Spike.

"Spike, come on, tell the truth," urged Rupert.

"It is the bloody truth. Angel was supposed to buy it, okay?"

"Would that be Liam O'Connor?" asked Detective Roberts.

"Yeah that's 'im, 'ave yer asked 'im?" asked Spike.

"That was the person who reported the theft."

"He wot?" shouted Spike, standing up, "He set me up, the git!"

"Sit back down," snarled the officer.

Spike sat down. He couldn't believe it, why would he do something like this?

"Angel?" queried Rupert, "I thought he was your friend?" He looked at Spike then back at Roberts, "Perhaps he did trick Spike, um, James. A prank perhaps?"

"When he called he said it was because he was worried about the amount his friend was drinking, that it was getting out of control and he was stealing other things to pay for it too."

"Is this true, Spike? I can't believe you're drinking," said Rupert.

Spike hung his head. "Um." Was all he could manage.

"Detective Roberts, may I speak with you in private please?"

"Sure," said the officer, getting up. "You just stay sitting there," he added to Spike.

Spike watched the two of them go out of the room, closing the door behind them. He felt totally ashamed of himself.

"_God, Spike, yer are a stupid git. William wouldn't 'ave been so bleedin' stupid, and drinking…after what it did to Mom and Dad…."_

He put his head in his hands. After what seemed like an age the officer and a grim faced Rupert came back in. Spike hardly dare look at them. Detective Roberts sat down opposite him.

"Right, James, you can go." Spike looked up. "Mr. Giles has told me all you've been through and has compensated the store owner so he's dropped the charges." Spike slumped with relief. "But I'm warning you," the officer leant close to Spike, "If I see you in here again things will be different, okay? Okay?" he repeated as Spike stayed silent.

"Okay, sir," mumbled Spike.

"Now get out of here."

Spike didn't need telling twice. He got up from his chair and walked to the door, glancing at Rupert who glared at him and turned away. Spike followed him out to the car. Nothing was said on the journey home and when they got in Spike started to walk to his room.

"Not so fast," said Rupert in a voice that brooked no argument.

Spike stopped and turned to face him.

"I'm sorry."

"Not good enough, Spike," said Rupert. He pointed to a chair at the dining table, "Sit down, we need to have a talk."

Reluctantly Spike walked over and sat down, with Rupert sitting down opposite him.

"So what's going on?" asked Rupert.

"Nothin'" muttered Spike.

"Nothing!" exclaimed Rupert, "I get a phone call telling me to go to the station. When I get there I'm informed that you've been stealing alcohol and were swigging it in the street no less and all you say is nothing?"

"Um."

"Come on, talk to me, Spike. How can I help you if you don't tell me what's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" Spike repeated, meeting Rupert's eyes, "Everything's wrong."

Rupert felt a wave of sympathy wash over him as he looked at Spike, who looked very young and lost as he sat here in front of him, but he quashed it. Spike had had plenty of sympathy and now he needed a bit of straight talking.

"I'm going to ask you some questions and I want honest answers, Spike. Don't mess me about, okay?"

Spike nodded.

"Did you steal the vodka?"

"No." said Spike, "Well, I did but I didn't know I did."

"What on earth do you mean?"

Spike told him how he'd given Angel the money to buy it and how Angel had handed him the bottles before he walked out.

Rupert thought about it for a moment and believed him.

"So how much are you drinking if it's got your friend so worried he'll report you to the police?"

"He didn't do it 'cause of my drinkin', he did it to get me in trouble," said Spike.

"Why would he do that? He's your friend, isn't he? You've been spending enough time with him."

Spike hesitated before he answered.

"I think he's been playin' me all along, it's wot he does. I can't believe I was stupid enough to fall for it. He bullied… er…William… all the time but I think he wanted a bit more fun with me."

"That sounds a little far fetched to me," said Rupert.

"But it's not," protested Spike, "Look, I had a bit of a row with him on my first day, he went to 'ave a go at me and I stood up to 'im. For the rest of the week no one spoke to me, Rupert, not one person. I went to the Bronze and Angel and Davey came up to me and I was just glad to 'ave some mates, yer know? Should've seen through it."

"But you've been drinking?" asked Rupert.

"Yeah I 'ave." replied Spike, not meeting his eyes.

"How long?"

"Er...since that first night at the Bronze."

"How much?"

"Um, quite a bit," admitted Spike.

"So is it just when you go to The Bronze?"

"No." said Spike quietly. Rupert waited for him to continue, "It's everyday."

"Is there any liquor in this apartment?"

"No, that's why I was buying the vodka tonight so I could share some with Angel and Davey and bring the rest 'ome."

"So you've been drinking here, under my nose and I haven't noticed? said Rupert, "Great job I'm doing."

"It's not your fault," said Spike.

"I know it's not my bloody fault!" shouted Rupert, "But I should have noticed it."

Spike flinched as Rupert shouted at him.

"How about at school? Have you been drinking at school?" before Spike could speak Rupert continued, "Good Lord, that's why you started taking your own lunch in, so you could put some of your alcohol in, isn't it?"

Spike nodded.

"I'm sorry," he said again, "I was stupid, I just wanted a friend, I just followed his lead which I shouldn't 'ave. But it was nice you know, the vodka, the way it made me feel. It was easier to forget what 'ad 'appened, it didn't 'urt so much." Tears started to fall, "I miss Mom…all of them…so much, all of the time. I don't think I can take it."

Rupert went round to Spike, who clung to him until his sobs subsided.

Later as they were eating dinner Rupert started to talk.

"You know you're grounded, right?" he said.

"Yeah, forever I reckon," replied Spike, not caring. He didn't want to go anywhere anymore.

"You're to spend lunchtime with me in the library."

"Okay."

"I'm going to arrange for you to see the guidance counsellor once per week."

"Why?"

"Because you don't seen able to confide in me so perhaps talking to a professional counsellor will help you."

"But…."

"No buts, Spike. It's not up for debate. You will see the counsellor."

"Okay."

"You'll travel to and from school with me."

Spike opened his mouth to protest but thought better of it and closed it again without saying anything, nodding instead.

To be continued….


	23. Chapter 23

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: Only the plot is my own.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Saturday morning Spike woke up reluctantly, trying to will himself to stay asleep. He heard Rupert get up and start moving about in the kitchen. He groaned and pulled the covers up over his head.

"Come on, Spike, get up," said Rupert, rapping sharply on his door.

"Okay," replied Spike. He pushed off the covers and swung his feet to the floor, then he rubbed his hand through his hair and got up. He picked up his black jeans and pulled them on, walking out of his room barefooted and bare-chested.

"Morning," said Rupert brightly.

"Mornin'," said Spike. He slumped into his place at the dining table; he didn't feel so good.

"Thought we'd have a good breakfast together then perhaps after you've done your school work we'll go out somewhere."

"Um, not that 'ungry," mumbled Spike.

"Don't be ridiculous," said Rupert, "It'll do you good." He poured out a couple of glasses of orange juice.

Both noticed how Spike's hand was shaking as he picked it up. He took a mouthful and quickly put it back down. He kept his head down, not looking at Rupert. Rupert looked at Spike knowing he must be feeling ill and in need of a drink - he'd seen it all before with William's parents…

"Try to eat something, Spike, it'll help you feel better."

He went back into the kitchen and brought out a pile of pancakes. Spike took one and nibbled at it, pulling pieces off with his fingers and putting them in his mouth rather than using a knife and fork. It tasted like cardboard to him. He managed to eat two and to finish the juice before he asked to be excused.

"I'm…er…just going to lie down for a minute, okay?" he asked.

"Yes, of course," said Rupert, watching Spike walk to his room.

Once inside Spike curled up in a foetal position on his bed, feeling wretched.

An hour later Rupert peered in the doorway to Spike's room after having no reply to the tap he'd given it. Spike was asleep, curled in a ball, so he decided to leave him be.

Spike finally woke up at about two in the afternoon. He pulled on a t-shirt and went into the living room.

"Um, hi," he said sheepishly when he saw Rupert sitting reading a newspaper.

"Feeling better?"

"Er…yeah…a bit," replied Spike.

"Fancy something to eat?" asked Rupert, both of them laughing a little as Spike's stomach gave an audible growl.

"I'll take that as a yes, shall I?"

"I am kind of 'ungry," said Spike, somewhat surprised that he was.

After a lunch of a mountain of pasta, Rupert announced that they were going out. Spike felt better for being loaded up with carbs and was happy to be going out somewhere. Happy that was until he saw where Rupert parked the car- outside Buffy's mom's gallery.

"_Shit,"_ thought Spike.

"Um, I'll just wait in the car if that's okay?" said Spike.

"What? No, it's not okay, come on in." replied Rupert.

"Please let me wait here," begged Spike.

"Sorry, Spike, you're not going out of my sight for a while," said Rupert firmly, "Get out of the car."

"You don't trust me to sit in the car?" complained Spike.

"Frankly, no." replied Rupert, "Don't tell me you weren't thinking of going over there to try to get something to drink?" He nodded across the street to a liquor store that Spike hadn't even noticed; he was just desperate not to bump into Buffy after last night's humiliation.

"No, I wasn't 'onest Rupert, I never even saw it," said Spike, glancing over to it, _"But now you mention it…?"_ He pulled his eyes away, "I thought you believed me that I didn't steal anything."

"I do believe you didn't do it intentionally, but I know you must be wanting a drink by now and it's easy to give in to temptation."

"I'm not a bleedin' alcoholic!" snapped Spike.

"I never said you were but by your own admission you've been drinking daily for a month and I'm not letting you have the chance to even think about going to get one. Now come on, let's go in."

"But…it's just…" Spike blushed, "Last time we were in here… there was a girl… and…"

"Oh good grief, Spike, come on. If she's there, she's not going to bite you, is she?"

"No." said Spike, not totally convinced. She might not actually bite him but her words would. With a sigh he got out of the car and followed Rupert into the gallery. He kept his eyes to the ground.

"_Please don't let her be here, please don't let her be here."_

"Hello, Mr. Giles."

"_Shit, she is here."_

"Oh hello, Buffy," replied Rupert, "Is this your Saturday job?"

"Yes, and a few more days, too. It's my mom's gallery."

"Oh, is it? Your mother has some lovely things in here."

"Thanks. She'll be out in a minute, she's just in the store room," replied Buffy. She glanced at Spike; he was standing shoulders slightly stooped, hands in his pockets, head down avoiding her eyes.

At that moment Buffy's mom walked up to the counter.

"Mom, this is Mr. Giles, he's the new librarian at school. Mr. Giles, this is my mom," introduced Buffy.

"Joyce Summers," said Joyce, holding out her hand.

"Rupert," said Rupert, taking it, "Pleased to meet you. Oh, and this is my nephew James Norman," he said, gesturing at Spike.

"Hello, James," she said, offering him her hand to shake.

"Um, hello, Mrs. Summers," said Spike with the briefest of handshakes.

Buffy was watching Spike carefully. For some reason today he reminded her a bit of William. Gone was the arrogant confident swagger he usually had. No doubt something to do with being arrested yesterday, she thought derisively.

"I thought I'd have another look at that Moroccan statue I saw a few weeks ago, if you still have it?" said Rupert to Joyce.

"Yes, it's just around here," said Joyce, walking round the corner with him.

"I saw you last night," said Buffy.

"I know," muttered Spike. He glanced at the door wanting to escape but knew Rupert expected him to stay inside. He could feel his face burning; he fidgeted from one foot to the other.

"Was that your first time being taken away by the police?" asked Buffy rather spitefully.

Spike, needled by her tone, brought his eyes up to meet hers and decided to tell the truth.

"No."

"Oh." said Buffy, her eyes widening slightly as his blue eyes met hers properly for the first time.

He was just about to tell her about the first time when Rupert and Joyce walked back round to the counter. Joyce was carrying the ugliest statue Spike had ever seen.

"I'll just wrap it up for you, Mr. Giles," said Joyce.

"Call me Rupert, please," said Rupert.

"There you are, Rupert," said Joyce once she'd wrapped it, put it in a bag and told him the price, which made Spike's mouth fall open.

"_He's paying how much? For that?"_ he thought as he followed Rupert out of the gallery and back to the car.

Ooooooo

"He's very nice," said Joyce as she watched Rupert drive away.

"He must be, you've just sold him the most hideous thing in the whole place," joked Buffy.

"James seems a nice boy, too."

"James is the one I told you about last night," replied Buffy.

"I thought you said that was someone called….what was it?"

"Spike," supplied Buffy.

"That's it," said Joyce.

"They're one and the same, Mom."

"Oh," said Joyce.

"Yes, oh," said Buffy, "So no, he's not a particularly nice boy."

Ooooooo

"She seems very nice," said Rupert as he drove away.

"She must be, if you've just paid that much for that repulsive thing from her," joked Spike.

"I didn't know that it was Buffy we'd seen in there when we came before I'd started work. She seems a very pleasant girl," said Rupert.

"Mm," said Spike, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

Rupert smiled to himself, _"Has he got a bit of a crush?"_

To be continued……..


	24. Chapter 24

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: only the plot is mine 

Chapter Twenty-Four

Monday morning and Spike had barely slept. He was dreading the day as he didn't know what Angel and Davey would do. Would they ignore him? Beat him up? He was glad he was having a ride in with Rupert. He followed him to the library when he got out of the car.

"You don't need to wait here with me until start of class," said Rupert.

"I know," replied Spike, "but is it okay if I do?"

"Yes it is, Spike." He put a hand on his nephew's shoulder. "You'll be all right."

"Yeah."

Spike started as he heard the bell. He picked up his knapsack and made his way to his history class with a sigh. As he stepped into the room it fell silent for a second or two before everyone started whispering and staring.

"_Okay, so it was too much to hope that no one would know,"_ thought Spike, striding quickly to his seat at the back.

By the end of the lesson everyone was whispering about him again but for a different reason. He'd decided the best way to keep from thinking about everything too much without having a drink was to throw himself into the lesson. Even Mrs. Bernstein was shocked, especially since he seemed to know more about the subject than she did.

As he made his way to the library at lunchtime Angel and Davey blocked his path.

"Hi, Spike," said Angel.

"Angel," nodded Spike.

"Sorry about Friday."

"Yeah, I bet," replied Spike.

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Angel, stepping closer to him.

"Yer know exactly wot I mean," said Spike. He sidestepped him and hurried past, heart in his mouth.

"Not my fault you're a drunk and a thief!" shouted Angel after him before he and Davey walked off laughing.

Spike crashed through the doors to the library, shut them behind him and closed his eyes as he leant his back against them in relief.

"_That didn't go too badly, Spike, still got all yer fingers and toes."_

He opened his eyes to see Buffy, Willow, Oz and Xander staring at him.

"_Oh crap."_

He stood there for a moment like a rabbit caught in a car's headlights before putting his head down and going into Rupert's small office.

"Hello, Spike, how did the morning go?" asked Rupert.

Spike didn't answer - just sat down with a thump in the spare chair.

"As good as that?" he added.

Spike nodded.

"Why don't you go and sit in the main library for your lunch? It's a bit cramped in here."

"Do I 'ave to?" croaked Spike.

Rupert looked at him; he certainly looked stressed out.

"No, stay here if you prefer."

"Thanks," said Spike, pulling out his lunch. He opened a can of Coke and took a couple of sips. Rupert had insisted he only brought cans of soda to school so that he'd be sure Spike wasn't adding alcohol to them.

Oooooo

The four friends all looked at each other after Spike had bolted past them.

"Didn't look very happy," said Xander, stating the obvious.

"It's only because he got caught," said Buffy, "He was perfectly happy on Friday."

"Pretty harsh, Buffy," said Willow mildly.

"It's honest is what it is," snapped Buffy, "Something Spike Norman doesn't know about obviously. He told me in Mom's gallery on Saturday that's it's not the first time he's been in trouble with the police. He just looked me in the eye and told me," she added, not quite getting her facts straight.

"Oh." said Willow.

"Come on, let's go get some lunch," said Xander.

All, apart from Oz, got up.

"I'll catch you guys later, just need to check something out," said Oz.

"Do you want me to stay with?" asked Willow.

"No, it's okay, won't take long."

"Okay," said Willow and she followed Xander and Buffy out.

Oz quietly walked to the bookshelves at the back of the library, taking his bag with him.

Ooooooo

Spike heard Buffy and the others leave, and relaxed a little. Her shrill voice had carried to him and her words had stung. He took his iPod out of his bag, put the earphones in and turned it on.

"Can you go and sit in the main room if you're listening to that, please? I hate hearing the bass coming through the headphones," said Rupert.

"Wot?" said Spike, pulling one earphone out.

Rupert pointed to the other room.

"Okay," said Spike. He picked up his bag and sat at the table vacated by Buffy and co., put his feet up on a chair, turned the volume up and closed his eyes, losing himself in the music.

He felt someone tap his feet. He quickly pulled them off the chair and opened his eyes expecting to see Rupert, but to his surprise it was Oz.

"Um, hi," he said, looking up at the short stocky boy.

"You've got a good voice," said Oz with a smile.

"Wot?" said Spike in confusion.

"You can sing," said Oz, sitting down.

"Shit! I was singing?" exclaimed Spike, looking around to see if anyone else had heard.

"Yeah, you were. It's okay, there's only me here and Mr. Giles, of course."

"Er, yer 'air's brown," said Spike stupidly, "It was red the other week." he added lamely.

"Yeah, it changes," said Oz ,"Bit like yours, you letting yours grow out?" He pointed to Spike's hair.

"Dunno, 'aven't decided yet," said Spike, self consciously running a hand through his hair which was showing about a half inch of brown roots.

"Did you sing in England?" asked Oz.

"No, well, only once," replied Spike, "It was at a Karaoke night, my mate and …er William spiked my drink with vodka before I had the nerve to get up hence the nickname."

"But you're good, better than Devon," said Oz earnestly.

"Oh no." said Spike, sitting up straighter suddenly realising where the conversation was heading, "No, I'm not interested in doing it again. Yer 'eard about the weekend yeah?" Oz nodded. "Well I was….er…drinking a bit and well now I'm not and no way could I do that sober, mate, no way."

"How about just practising?" said Oz, "Me and Devon can't even stay in the same room at the moment, it's boring just playing my guitar on my own."

"Oh, I dunno," said Spike, "I'm under 'ouse arrest until I'm about sixty."

"I could come to your place," said Oz.

"Maybe…I'll 'ave to ask Rupert, okay?" said Spike doubtfully.

"You'll be here tomorrow lunchtime?" asked Oz.

"I think I'll be in 'ere 'til I graduate, mate," sighed Spike.

"Okay," said Oz, "I'll see you tomorrow then." He stood up and turned to leave.

"Oz?" said Spike.

"Yeah," replied Oz, looking back.

"Don't take this the wrong way but why are yer botherin' with me?" said Spike.

"Huh?"

"Call me paranoid but no one speaks to me then Angel does and the git sets me up right and proper. Now you pop up from nowhere wanting to be my buddy," said Spike bitterly.

"What do you mean Angel set you up?" asked Oz sitting back down.

"Long story."

Oz looked at his watch, "Longer than thirty minutes?"

"No, not that long," replied Spike and he told him all about what had happened.

"God, that's so mean of him, but pretty typical Angel," said Oz when Spike had finished telling him.

"Yeah but if I 'adn't been drinking so much maybe I'd've seen through it, so it's my fault the whole school thinks I'm a thief and a bleedin' alcoholic."

"Not the whole school. I don't think you are so that's the school minus one," said Oz with a grin.

"That makes all the difference," said Spike, starting to laugh with him.

The bell went for class and the two boys got up and walked out of the library.

"Oh, in answer to your question, I felt bad that I didn't make more of an effort after seeing you the day of William's memorial, or rather any effort at all. If I had maybe Angel wouldn't have gotten his clutches into you," said Oz, "listening to Buffy saying it served you right…."

"Yeah, I 'eard 'er," interrupted Spike.

"…just got me thinking, and then when I heard you singing I had to come to talk to you," continued Oz.

"Still not singing on stage but nice speech," said Spike, "I'll see what Rupert says about you coming over but I'm not sure whether being grounded means I can see anybody or not. He wants me to try 'arder with my schoolwork too, which is fair enough."

"Sure, we'll see what he says. I'll see you tomorrow at lunchtime."

"Okay," said Spike, "Thanks, Oz."

"What for?"

"Believing me, I guess," replied Spike and he headed off for English class feeling a bit happier.

His happiness lasted until he walked into the classroom. He was one of the last to arrive and had to squeeze past the desks to his seat. As he passed Buffy he accidentally knocked her schoolbag from where it was hanging on the back of the chair, its contents spilling to the floor. He bent down and started to pick up her belongings. When he saw her purse he picked it up but she snatched it from him, checking inside.

"I'll have that, thank you," she snapped, picking up her other things as fast as she could.

"I 'aven't touched it," said Spike defensively when he saw her look inside it, "Was just 'elpin' pick it up for yer."

"Yeah right," said Buffy.

"Here," he retorted, "Don't forget this." He held up a pen, "God knows I'll be selling it to pay for my drinking if yer don't take it back. Sod yer!" he threw it on her desk, stomped off and sat down.

His intentions of working harder in class failed miserably that afternoon; he spent most of the lesson looking out of the window. His attention was brought back into focus when a student came in and said that James Norman had to go to Principal Snyder's office.

"_Christ, wot now?"_ he flushed as he walked out of the classroom as once again his classmates' eyes followed his progress.

He knocked on Snyder's door.

"Enter."

Spike walked in. He towered over the little bald man, but like most small men, Snyder was aggressive.

"Sit," he snarled.

Spike did.

"I've just been talking to Mr. Giles; he's told me all about your incident on Friday evening and about your drinking problem and I'm very disappointed in you, James."

Snyder stood over Spike as he sat; it was the only way he could get to look down at the students.

"This is not the behaviour I want at Sunnydale High nor what I expected from William Pratt's cousin."

Spike said nothing.

"I've been looking at your class work," continued Snyder.

"_Uh oh,"_ thought Spike.

"…and to say it's diabolical wouldn't be an exaggeration, so I've discussed this with Mr. Giles and you are to have extra tutoring twice a week until your grade average improves by two points."

"But I've already promised Rupert I'll work harder," said Spike.

"Did I ask you to speak?" said Snyder, leaning in closely to Spike's face.

"No sir."

"That is correct. You will be tutored in the library after school on Tuesdays and Thursdays."

"_God, I may as well move in there,"_ thought Spike dispiritedly.

"Be assured that I shall be watching you very closely and if you step out of line in this school by so much as an inch you won't be graduating at all. The guidance counsellor will see you tomorrow morning. Our sympathy for the circumstances that brought you here will not excuse you from punishment should you fail to keep to these conditions. Understood, Mr. Norman?"

"Yes sir," said Spike.

"Get back to class," ordered Snyder.

Spike got up and walked slowly back to class praying that the bell for end of school would sound before he got back. For once his prayers were answered and he went outside and leant against Rupert's car waiting for his lift home. He'd never been in more need of a drink.

Oooooo

"Tough day, huh?" asked Rupert as the pair got into the car.

"Yer could say that," sighed Spike.

"Snyder pounced on you, I suppose?"

Spike nodded.

"Sorry about that. I had to tell him as it was all over the school anyway but I thought he'd just let me deal with it."

"It's okay, Rupert, I deserve it I reckon. I won't cause you any more trouble."

"I heard you talking to Daniel," said Rupert.

"Daniel? Oh, Oz?" said Spike, remembering Oz's name was Daniel Osborne.

"Yes, he seemed friendly."

"Yeah, Oz's okay."

"Did I hear him say he would like to come round to the apartment?"

"Yeah, but I didn't say he could. I told him I 'ad to ask you first," said Spike quickly, not wanting any more hassle that day.

"I know, Spike. It's okay. I was just going to say it's alright for him to come over if you want him to."

"Oh great, thanks," said Spike.

To be continued…….


	25. Chapter 25

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: I own merely the plot!

Chapter Twenty-Five

Tuesday; another day that had Spike leaping out of bed with enthusiasm – not.

The first thing he had to do when he got to school was report to the guidance counsellor, something he really, really didn't want to do. He could take pretty well everything else that was thrown at him but that was too much. His feet literally dragged along the floor as he walked to the office. A secretary told him to wait, so he sat down on one of the two hard wooden chairs that were next to the door.

After about ten minutes the door opened and the counsellor looked out.

"James Norman?" she enquired.

Spike nodded. He'd started to get a little more used to hearing that name; it didn't cut him like a knife anymore.

"Come on in, sorry I kept you waiting."

Spike followed her in. He wasn't sure what he expected a guidance counsellor to look like but it certainly wasn't like what was before him. He sat in the chair she indicated, which was a comfy armchair. He'd almost expected there to be a couch for him to lie down on, and he tried not to stare. She was beautiful - long dark hair tied back from her face but reaching well past her shoulders, and she had warm brown eyes. She was almost the same height as Spike and was casually dressed in blue jeans and a white linen blouse. You may have thought that she was trying to appear trendy or so students would identify with her more easily but the fact was she looked barely older than Spike, so the clothes just looked 'right'.

She sat, not behind the desk but in another armchair positioned so it faced the one Spike was in at a bit of an angle. She held a notepad in her hand and on a low table between the two chairs there was a folder that Spike could see bore his name.

The counsellor regarded the youth in front of her and smiled inwardly.

_"Another reluctant customer"_

"Hi, James," she said with a friendly smile, "I'm Monica Gibson."

There was a pause before Spike muttered, "Um, hi Miss Gibson."

"It's ok, James, you can call me Monica. I'm not a teacher."

"Okay," he said. It was warm in the room so he shrugged off his leather duster and let it fall over the back of the chair.

"Oh!" exclaimed Monica, "You like Ghost of the Robot?"

Spike was quite taken aback. "Er…yeah." He glanced down and realised he was wearing the t-shirt with their name on the front. _"Wow, she's real sharp spotting that. Let's pretend to be interested in him then he'll tell me everything,"_ he thought sarcastically.

"What's your favourite track? I think mine's "Dangerous" but it does vary depending on what mood I'm in," said Monica.

"_Okay, so she knows the band," _thought Spike before telling her, "I like "Dangerous" too but I love "Vehicles Shock Me" and "Mefiant".

"I love "Mefiant" too but that's not on the album, is it? Just on an EP CD.

"That's right," said Spike. She was the first person he'd met apart from James and Rich who knew of the band; admittedly he didn't exactly have a wide social circle.

"So what other music do you like?" asked Monica, pleased to see the transformation as the boy in front of her lost his sullen expression and became animated as he talked about different bands and solo artists. Funnily enough they shared the same musical tastes.

"How about books, James? What's your favourite novel or author?"

"Um," said Spike shyly, "Everybody calls me Spike."

"Spike? That's different to most of the nicknames people get. I would've expected yours to be 'Normy', she joked.

"Normy? No way," said Spike in disgust. "Lame."

"So, Spike, favourite author or books?"

"I love all the "Dresden Files" by Jim Butcher and stuff by Harlan Coben but I'd 'ave to say my all time favourite is still 'Pride and Prejudice'."

"Why's that?" asked Monica.

"Dunno really." For a moment Monica saw something pass over his face. "Just was kind of a total escape when I read it for the first time, totally different world, yer know?"

Monica nodded. She was a little surprised at him liking English classic literature since, according to his notes, he was doing worse in English than in any other subject. She looked at her watch.

"Well Spike, you'd better get on your way for your next class. The bell will be ringing soon."

"Wot?" said Spike puzzled, "Is that it?"

"What do you mean?" asked Monica.

"Well aren't yer, like, gonna ask me about why I got sent to see you?"

"It's all in your notes, Spike, which I've read thoroughly," replied Monica.

"But don't yer want to 'ear it from me?"

The bell rang shrilly.

"No time now, Spike. Off you go, you don't want to be late."

"But…."

"Go on, Spike. I'll see you at the same time next week," said Monica firmly. She put her notepad down on the table and Spike could see she'd written nothing on it at all.

"Oh, okay," said Spike. He stood up, put on his jacket and walked out, closing the door behind him. _"Now that was weird,"_ he thought as he went to class.

Oooooo

Monica was smiling as she picked up Spike's records and flicked through them again. It wasn't difficult to see why things had gone wrong with his behaviour after everything that had happened to him - losing his parents then moving to another country with an uncle he barely knew, let alone the head injury he'd suffered.

She was looking forward to getting him to open up to her. Her method of making the first session nothing like what they expected always worked. They came in surly and determined not to talk but then when she didn't ask the questions they expected they suddenly wanted to talk. Looking younger than her 28 years helped, too.

"_Surely the kid can't be all bad if he likes Ghost of the Robot."_

Ooooooo

The rest of the morning passed quickly and soon Spike was walking into the library for lunch.

"Hello, Spike," said Rupert, "How did you get on with your appointment with the counsellor?"

"Yeah, it was okay," said Spike, "Monica seems pretty cool."

"Monica?"

"Er…Miss Gibson. She told me to call her Monica," said Spike.

"Oh that's very…..modern of her," said Rupert.

Spike grinned, "Yeah, real modern to a dinosaur like you."

"Hey, watch it," said Rupert, smiling back at his nephew. He was pleased to see Spike looked less tense today.

Since the library was empty Spike settled down to eat his lunch at the large round table in the main room rather than with Rupert in his office, mainly because he could then listen to his Ipod. He'd been there about fifteen minutes when the door swung open and, true to his word, in walked Oz.

"Hi, man," said Oz sitting down next to Spike.

"Oz," nodded Spike. He pulled out his earphones and turned off his Ipod.

"Did you ask Mr. Giles?" asked Oz.

"Yeah, I did," said Spike with a dramatic sigh, "Thing is, he won't let me 'ave anyone over for at least two months."

"Wow, that's pretty harsh," said Oz.

Spike couldn't keep it up and started to chuckle, "Nah mate, he said it was okay."

"Really? That's great! So when shall I come over?" asked Oz, "Thursday?"

"Can't, got extra bleedin' tutoring on Tuesdays and Thursdays," said Spike, "'Ow about Friday?"

"Can't, we always go to The Bronze on Fridays," replied Oz.

"Oh," said Spike, a brief flash of the evening spent with them all before his trip hit him, "Um, wot about Saturday?" he asked without much hope.

"Yeah, Saturday's cool," said Oz with a smile, "Shall I come about five?"

"Cool," said Spike. He gave him directions to the apartment. "Um….are yer gonna tell the others that yer coming over?" he asked hesitantly.

"Was gonna. Why, don't you want me to?"

"I know yer'll think it's stupid but could yer not tell anyone just yet?"

"Oh, okay," replied Oz, deciding to humour him.

"Cheers, mate."

Oooooo

After school Spike once again made his way to the library for his first session of tutoring.

"Okay, here goes," he muttered as he pushed his way through the doors.

Truth be told, he was actually quite looking forward to it. He wanted to get back into doing his schoolwork properly. He walked in and looked around; no one was there.

"Rupert?" he called.

"I'm here, Spike," said Rupert, appearing from behind the furthest bookshelf.

"So where's my study buddy?" asked Spike.

"Principal Snyder said he would be down to see you get started so I presume whoever it is will come with him. They should be here any minute."

"Oh great, so I'm up for another lecture from him before we start," grumbled Spike, "I'm very disappointed in you, Mr. Norman." He mimicked Snyder's voice perfectly as he sat down and pulled out his pen and his books from his knapsack.

Rupert laughed, "Yes, I'm afraid you will. Principal Snyder likes them a lot."

"I like what, Mr. Giles?" asked Snyder sharply as he walked into the library.

"Um, I was ..er…just telling Spike how you…er….like pupils who keep good attendance records," stuttered Rupert.

"Hmm," said Snyder, not convinced.

Spike had to hide a grin with his hand, enjoying seeing his uncle discomforted.

"Right then, Mr. Norman," Spike caught his uncle's eye and both struggled to keep a straight face. " I hope you're ready to knuckle down to some serious studying. I chose Buffy Summers to be your tutor out of all our volunteers as her own grades are just getting better and better so hopefully she'll inspire you to improve."

Snyder had barely finished speaking when Buffy flung the doors open and rushed in.

"Sorry I'm late, I had to go back for a text book." She stopped short when she saw Spike sat at the table.

Spike was looking at her in dismay, _"Oh great, now in addition to thinking I'm a thief and a lush, she'll think I'm brain dead too."_

"Hello, Buffy," said Rupert into the small silence that followed.

"Oh, hi Mr. Giles," said Buffy, _"God, it had to be him, didn't it?"_ "Are you sure I'm the right one for the job Mr. Snyder?"

"Of course you are, otherwise I wouldn't have selected you, would I?" snapped Snyder, "Now get on with it. Goodnight Mr. Giles."

"Goodnight," replied Rupert.

Buffy and Spike glared at each other for a minute before Buffy pulled out a chair and sat down next to him.

"Right then," said Buffy, all businesslike, "Let's have a look at what you've done in English so far."

"_Yep, brain dead that's wot she'll think," _thought Spike as he pushed his English book towards her.

He'd barely done any work in that class since arriving back at Sunnydale, too busy daydreaming about Buffy or, like yesterday, avoiding her contemptuous looks. She scanned through his notes.

"Did you do anything at all in the lessons?" asked Buffy.

"Nope," said Spike honestly.

"Why?"

"Why wot?"

"Why didn't you do any work?" asked Buffy.

"Er…dunno…just got distracted, I guess," he said, looking down at his hands on the table.

"Are you sure that you weren't just too drunk?" said Buffy with a sneer, "The classes are all in the afternoons."

His head snapped up and he looked her in the eyes, his face showing such hurt that she regretted her harsh words.

"Well, there is that," he said softly, holding her gaze for a moment before dropping it back to his hands and doodling on his notepad.

"Okay," said Buffy briskly, trying to hide the fact she felt bad, "Let's get started on this essay."

For the next hour and a half they worked solidly. Spike tried his best to keep focussed on his work but despite himself he found that occasionally his mind would wander. Sitting next to Buffy, smelling her perfume, took him back to what might have been, before that fateful vacation. Even though she obviously hated him, Spike couldn't help still having feelings for her. He longed to touch her, to stroke her beautiful blonde hair.

"Spike," she said sharply, looking up at him and seeing him gazing at her, "What are you doing? Concentrate." She tapped the textbook with her pen.

"Uh….um…sorry," said Spike, blushing as he realised he'd been staring, and he swiftly got back to work.

When it was time to leave, Rupert, Spike and Buffy walked out to the parking lot.

"Do you need a lift home, Buffy?" asked Rupert.

"No thank you, Mr. Giles. My mom's over there," she said, waving at a small car nearby.

Rupert and Spike accompanied Buffy to the car; Joyce wound the window down when she saw them.

"Hello, Mr. Giles," she called.

"It's Rupert, please," he replied, "I can give Buffy a ride home on Thursday evening if you like to save you from having to come to collect her."

"That would be very kind, thank you, Rupert," replied Joyce, "Bye," she added as Buffy got in the car and they drove away.

"Did you get plenty of work done?" asked Rupert.

"Yeah, I did." Said Spike, still staring at the departing car.

"Come on then, let's get home," said Rupert and they climbed into his old Citroen and went home.

To be continued………


	26. Chapter 26

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: I own merely the plot 

Chapter Twenty-Six

Thursday's tutoring session soon came around. This time Buffy was at the library before Spike, leaning on the desk, chatting to Rupert and smiling at him as Spike opened the doors. He paused for a second before they saw him. He wished she'd smile at him like that or, better still, smile at him like she had in The Bronze that night. He shook his head to disperse the images in his mind. Buffy noticed the movement and turned to face Spike, smile dimming as she did so.

"Um, hi," said Spike, walking towards the table where they'd worked last time.

"Hi," she said. She smiled at Rupert once more before sitting down next to Spike.

"Ready to start?" she asked.

"Yeah," replied Spike.

So out came all the textbooks and they settled down to work. After an hour Buffy yawned loudly, covering her mouth with her hand.

"Oh, sorry," she said.

"I'm sorry you're having to do all these extra hours at school," said Spike, eyes averted.

She glanced at him to see if he was being sarcastic but he just kept his head down on his work and kept writing.

"It's okay. If it wasn't you it'd be someone else. I volunteered to do this this year to get some extra credit on my record," she replied.

"Well, I'm sorry you got me," said Spike quietly.

"You can always ask Snyder for someone else if you don't like me tutoring you," snapped Buffy, anger flashing in her eyes, taking his comment the wrong way.

Spike sighed, "That's not what I meant."

"So what did you mean?"

He shrugged, "Doesn't matter."

What was the point in trying to explain himself to her, she just hated him. He had to face facts that Spike wasn't what she was looking for…

"Yes, it does," insisted Buffy, "Tell me." She put her pen down with finality on the table and looked him in the eye.

He dropped his eyes as he felt his face start to flush.

"It's just….er….well….um." he glanced back at her for a second. She was still staring at him. He took a deep breath, "It's just yer don't like me much…at all…so I thought you'd rather 'ave someone else to tutor."

"It could be worse," said Buffy. He looked up at her, "Poor Willow's got George 'The Pits" Bradley." Seeing Spike's blank look she continued, "so called due to the caustic nature of his B.O." She smiled at Spike, causing his heartbeat to flutter a little. "So, as you can see, it could be worse."

"That's good to know," said Spike, trying a small smile of his own.

"Come on, let's get this finished," ordered Buffy.

Spike obediently returned to his studies.

Ooooooo

At the end of the session Rupert drove Buffy home. Spike had insisted that she ride in the front of the car which earned him a quizzical look from her and an indulgent smile from Rupert.

As Rupert pulled up in front of Buffy's house on Revello Drive, Joyce opened the front door and walked down the path towards them.

"Rupert, please come in and have a coffee before you go home. It's the least I can do after you saved me having to drive to school," she said.

"Thank you, Joyce, that's very kind," replied Rupert.

Both teenagers groaned slightly as they got out of the car. Soon afterwards they were all in the Summers residence; Rupert, Joyce and Buffy drinking coffee, Spike opting for a hot chocolate when he heard mini marshmallows were on offer with it.

"Buffy why don't you take James…er…" Joyce stopped herself from saying 'up to your room', when she remembered he'd been in trouble for stealing and drinking and so perhaps wasn't trustworthy, and settled for "..into the lounge room."

Buffy was delighted to be out of the way of her mom and Mr. Giles 'getting to know one another'. She took Spike through and turned on the TV. Spike sat on the couch and Buffy in an armchair; they looked at each other awkwardly.

"So," said Buffy, realising that if she didn't speak Spike never would, "What TV shows do you like since you got to America?"

"I like 'Joan the Vampire Slayer', he said and then cringed. Couldn't he have thought of something else? "I know yer probably 'ate it but it's really well written," he added in its defence.

"No, I like it too," replied Buffy, "Kind of surprised you do though."

"Why's that?"

"Well, most males don't seem to be able to handle the whole 'one girl versus the forces of evil' thing. They seem to be threatened by a strong female lead," said Buffy.

"Oh?" said Spike, somewhat stunned.

"Sorry," she smiled the smile that made his heart miss a beat, "That sounded a bit like a lecture, didn't it?"

"Just a little," said Spike, "And preaching to the choir here."

They settled back into silence.

"Um, Spike?" said Buffy hesitantly, "Did, er, William ever mention me?"

"Wot?" said Spike, _"Christ, wot do I say?"_

"I was friends with William. Well, I'd just gotten to be, er hoped to be friends with him before he went to stay with you, and I wondered…if…he…oh, never mind. It doesn't matter now, does it?" she said and quickly walked out of the room.

Spike sat there for a moment then went back into the kitchen just as Rupert was rising from his seat. Buffy was nowhere to be seen.

"I think we'd better go home now, Joyce. Thank you for the coffee," said Rupert, "Ready, Spike?"

"Yeah, thanks, Mrs. Summers," he said as they left.

Ooooooo

Spike was feeling pretty restless. It was Friday night and normally he would have been out all evening with Angel and Davey and, more importantly, with a large amount of alcohol. It was the first time since Monday that he craved vodka. He'd e-mailed Rich and listened to some music but just couldn't settle. He went out of his room, padded over to where Rupert was sitting in one of the armchairs, and slumped down in the other chair with a sigh, as ever avoiding the couch. He still hadn't forgiven it for being so uncomfortable the first night he arrived back in the US. Rupert glanced up at him; he saw Spike was looking tense.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Mm," said Spike, getting up again and walking into the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator, peered inside, but didn't see anything he wanted so he pushed the door shut and stomped back to the chair and sat down again.

"Do you fancy seeing a movie?" asked Rupert.

"Yes!" said Spike quickly.

"What do you want to see?"

"Anything, don't care, you pick it," said Spike, just desperate to do something.

Rupert smiled at him, "Come on then, shall we have a meal first?"

"No, got to 'ave popcorn with a movie. We'll be too full to want it if we eat beforehand," said Spike, grabbing his jacket.

"So, we forego a proper nutritional dinner so we can eat a bucket of popcorn?" asked Rupert.

"Yep," said Spike with a grin, "but don't forget the candy and sodas, too."

"What have I let myself in for?" joked Rupert as they left.

To be continued………


	27. Chapter 27

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: I own merely the plot 

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Spike spent Saturday morning doing his schoolwork. Fortunately, the afternoon soon passed and time for Oz's arrival drew near.

At just after five there was a knock on the door. Spike, who'd been hovering near it for the last fifteen minutes, rushed to open it.

"Hi Oz," said Spike as he saw him standing there, guitar case in hand. "Come on in."

Oz nodded to Spike and stepped inside.

"Hi, Mr. Giles," he said as he spotted him sitting reading.

"Hello, Daniel," replied Rupert.

"Um, is it okay if we go to my room?" asked Spike, not sure whether Rupert wanted them in his view or not.

"Please do!" exclaimed Rupert, "I think I'll need a closed door between you two and your music and me."

"Great," said Spike in relief, "It's this way, Oz."

Oz followed him to his room. Spike closed the door and looked at Oz a little nervously. He'd never had a friend come round like this before, and he felt very self-conscious.

Oz put his guitar case down and took his bag from where he'd slung it over his shoulder. He rummaged in it for a bit, then pulled out a box and threw it to Spike with a grin.

"Here's a present for you," he said.

Spike caught it, looked at it, and then burst out laughing. Oz joined in.

"Thought it might help you make your mind up," he chuckled, "It's easy to use."

"It'll 'ave to be," replied Spike looking at the package containing a bleaching solution for his hair, "So yer reckon I should stay with the white, do yer?"

"Yeah, it looks pretty cool," said Oz, "I've dyed my hair plenty of times and lots of different colours but I've never had the nerve to go totally blond." He sat on Spike's bed, "Have you ever played guitar?"

"Nope," said Spike.

Oz leaned down and unclipped the clasps on the guitar case and took out a beautiful acoustic guitar. He stroked it almost reverently as he put the strap over his head.

"God, I love this guitar," said Oz, "Took me forever to save up for it but it's worth it. It even makes me sound good."

"But yer play really well," said Spike, forgetting that 'Spike' hadn't heard Oz play. When he saw the quizzical look on Oz's face it clicked and he quickly added, "William told me yer did and if yer play at a place like The Bronze you can't be all that bad."

"William said that?" said Oz with a reflective smile, "Mind you, he did only hear me once and that was with the electric guitar.

Oz started to play the guitar. Spike sat mesmerised - whatever Oz said, he really could play.

"Want to learn a few chords?" asked Oz after a while.

"That'd be great," said Spike.

He sat next to Oz and put the guitar on his knee but it felt strange. Oz watched how he held the guitar.

"Are you left-handed?"

"Yeah, why?"

"It's just that you can get guitars for lefties so you might find it a bit harder learning the right-handed way."

"Since this is the first time I've held a guitar I don't think it'll matter too much. When I broke my shoulder I got pretty good at doin' stuff with my right hand until it mended," replied Spike.

"Okay, here goes," said Oz and he ran through some simple chords.

When they'd had enough of the guitar they sat listening to music. Spike introduced Oz to "Ghost of the Robot" and the "Kaiser Chiefs", both of which Oz had never heard of before but instantly loved.

Spike resisted all of Oz's efforts to get him to sing saying he was way too embarrassed.

At about seven Rupert stuck his head round the door and asked if they'd like him to order in a pizza, this suggestion was met with great enthusiasm by both boys.

Oz left at nine-thirty, refusing the offer of a ride home, as he didn't live far away. He left telling Spike he'd see him at school on Monday. Spike had had a great time and hoped Oz would come over again next Saturday.

Ooooooo

On Sunday Spike dared himself to try using the bleach on his hair. To Rupert's amusement he locked himself in the bathroom for about an hour whilst he read the instructions three times before he trusted himself to use the kit. Finally he managed to apply the solution to his hair, making sure he hadn't missed a spot. He was a bit unsure of what the result might be as the stuff itself was a lilac colour; he hoped he didn't end up with hair that shade. It stung his scalp a little but he remembered it did that when he had in done at the barber shop.

When the time was up he carefully washed his hair, hoping it had worked. He wiped the steam from the mirror with his hand and peered at his reflection, squinting a little as he'd taken his contact lenses out before bleaching his hair in case he got any in his eyes. It had worked well; his hair was now snowy white all over again. It was still in the need of a bit of a trim but that could wait until he wasn't grounded any more, whenever that would be.

When he finally walked back into the sitting room Rupert looked at his nephew. He had hoped that Spike might have let his hair go back to its natural colour but he hadn't said anything about it to him. The bleach seemed to have straightened his naturally wavy hair and he'd pushed it back from his face.

"Well?" asked Spike when he saw Rupert staring at him.

"Looks like you've done a good job," said Rupert diplomatically, refraining from saying that he might find it easier to make friends if he hadn't bleached his hair or taken to wearing his long black jacket all the time - hardly the most welcoming of looks.

"Yeah, it wasn't as difficult as I thought it'd be," said Spike, "Looks okay though?" he added, never very self-confident.

"Spike," smiled Rupert, "If you wanted your hair to be as white as snow then yes, it looks okay."

"Cool," said Spike, and he went to his room to e-mail Rich.

To be continued……..


	28. Chapter 28

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: I own merely the plot 

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Tuesday morning saw Spike sitting outside Monica's office waiting for his second counselling session. Her head appeared round the door.

"Hi, Spike," she said, "Come on in."

Spike got up and followed her in, taking his place in one of the armchairs. He took off his duster before sitting down.

"I see you've had your hair bleached again," said Monica with a smile, thinking that sometimes the boys were just as into their appearance as the girls were though they'd never admit it.

Spike flushed, "Um, yeah," he said shyly.

"So, did you have a good week? What did you do over the weekend?" asked Monica, once more trying to get him at ease.

"Um…it was okay….er…I've got to do extra work with a tutor on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but it's not too bad I suppose apart from…" he stopped himself, "…and ..er…I'm like grounded so can't go anywhere by myself. Rupert took me to see a movie on Friday night and then Oz came round on Saturday."

"What's the problem with your tutoring?" asked Monica, picking up on his change of subject.

"Nothing," said Spike, not meeting her eyes.

Monica decided on a different approach, "So who is partnered with you for the tutoring?"

She noticed Spike's face colour up a little.

"Um…Buffy Summers," he said, looking down at his hands.

"So, what's she like?" asked Monica, "I haven't met her."

"_I bet you haven't, she's not stupid enough to do things that get you sent here."_

He hesitated for some time before replying. Monica just stayed quiet; there was nothing like silence for prompting someone to speak.

"She's….er…well…she's okay," stuttered Spike.

"What does she look like?"

"Um…blonde. Long hair that goes past her shoulders," said Spike, "small and slim, but kinda strong, yer know?" He glanced up at Monica, "She'll stand up for herself and …um…well she's…er…really pretty," finished Spike finally. By this time his face felt like it was on fire.

"So you like her then?" said Monica gently.

"Yeah," said Spike, knowing his blush had given the game away anyway.

"So why is there a problem with the tutoring?"

Spike looked up and met Monica's eyes.

"There isn't, I suppose, but I don't like her thinking I'm thick, okay?" he blurted, "I was stupid not to do the work but I'm not stupid, if yer know wot I mean. Or least I wasn't before the crash."

"Surely she'll realise that when she sees the work your doing?" said Monica.

"Suppose," said Spike, a touch sulkily "I've liked 'er for ages, ever since she came to Sunnydale. I never thought I 'ad a chance with her and then I thought I did but now I know I 'aven't but I can't stop liking her and it's 'orrible."

"You mean ever since you got to Sunnydale?" asked Monica.

"Wot?" said Spike, _"Oh crap!"_ He realised what he'd just said, "Yeah, since I got 'ere," he added.

"Well, that's hardly ages. What's it been, about six weeks?" said Monica, smiling at him.

"Seems like it," replied Spike, "It's long enough to make 'er 'ate me anyway."

He slumped in his chair.

"Why do you think she hates you? That's a pretty strong word, Spike."

"She…er…Christ, do I 'ave to say why?" said Spike.

Again Monica just waited patiently and, sure enough, he started to talk again.

"She thinks I've stolen stuff and that I've got a problem with drink and she thinks I'm the same as Angel 'cause I hung out with him and I'm nothing like Angel."

"Those are the reasons you've been referred to me also," said Monica, "Do you want to tell me about it?"

Spike took a deep breath and told Monica everything that had happened to him since he arrived at Sunnydale.

"So yer can see why she 'ates me. I've been a total jerk," he said dispiritedly.

"I think you're being a little hard on yourself, Spike," said Monica kindly, "You were incredibly vulnerable when you arrived here and just latched onto the first friendship that was offered."

"I should've known better. It was soddin' Angel, for God's sake," said Spike, "Um…William told me about him."

"How are you coping without any liquor?"

"Er…okay," said Spike slowly, "It did make things seem easier though."

"The key word here is 'seem'," said Monica firmly; "In fact, it's made things worse, hasn't it?"

"Yeah, I know," he replied, "I'm not going to drink again. That's what got me in trouble with the police and Buffy saw me and I was so ashamed, I am so ashamed."

Monica said nothing for a moment, then spoke of something he'd said earlier.

"What did you mean when you said you weren't stupid, or at least you weren't before the crash?"

"I dunno really, it just seems harder to concentrate somehow," he replied.

"It's probably because of the alcohol you were drinking, Spike," said Monica, "and you're in a totally different schooling system to the English one."

The bell went for the end of the first class and Spike got up and put on his duster.

"You're doing okay, Spike. See you next week."

"Okay."

Spike walked to his class feeling a little bemused at how much he'd told Monica. It was a total contrast to last week when she hadn't found out anything at all.

As Monica was putting away Spike's notes she found herself believing what he'd said about being set up by Angel. She'd had to see Angel a few times. When he bothered to show up at all she found him to be obnoxious, not caring about anyone or anything except himself, but the way he'd dealt with Spike seemed particularly callous. She was a little worried about the quantity of vodka that Spike had said he'd been drinking and decided to go to have a word with his guardian, Mr. Giles, to see how things were at home.

Oooooo

Buffy gave a big sigh before she pushed open the doors to the library. She'd steadfastly avoided Spike since she'd ran out on him at her house last Thursday. She felt stupid for asking if William had spoken about her, then even more stupid for rushing out of the room.

She walked in and saw Spike already sitting at the table, taking his books out of his bag. He looked up as he heard her come in and caught her eye briefly before turning back to his books. She joined him at the table.

"Er..hi," she said.

"Hi," mumbled Spike.

"Look about the other night…." started Buffy.

"It's okay. Shall we just get on with the work?" interrupted Spike, desperate to prevent her from talking about 'William'.

"Oh, right," said Buffy, not sure whether to be relieved or not.

They worked in almost total silence, only speaking when they needed to. When they'd finished Rupert once again drove Buffy home. She chatted easily to Rupert as Spike sat in the back, wishing she'd chat to him like that. Luckily for both teenagers Rupert refused Joyce's offer of coffee as he didn't want to impose every time and Buffy escaped into her house with a quick 'thank you' and a wave.

Spike climbed out of the back seat and into the seat vacated by Buffy.

"You both seemed quiet tonight," said Rupert.

"Just trying to get as much done as possible," replied Spike defensively, "Got lots to do."

Rupert glanced at him.

"Wot?" snapped Spike.

"Nothing," said Rupert. _"Looks like he's got a serious crush on Buffy. Unfortunately it doesn't seem to be reciprocated. Is nothing ever going to be easy for him?_

Ooooooo

Rupert was busy doing some filing in the library when Monica found him the next day.

"Mr. Giles, hello! I'm Monica Gibson, the guidance counsellor. Is it convenient for me to have a word with you regarding Spike?"

Rupert walked over to her and offered his hand, "Rupert; pleased to meet you." He gestured for her to go into his office after they'd shaken hands. "Is there a problem?"

"Thank you, Rupert. No, not really. I just thought it would give me more background if we had a chat," said Monica as she sat down in the office.

"What is it you need to know?" asked Rupert.

"How is he coping now he's stopped drinking?" asked Monica, not beating about the bush with Rupert like she does with the students.

"He seems fine so far," replied Rupert. "He was a little edgy on Friday as he usually went out then and obviously drank more those nights but I haven't been worried that he's trying to drink behind my back. He's determined not to drink again."

"That's good. I was just worried when he told me how much he'd been drinking and that it was a daily occurrence. He also told me that it made things seem easier. Obviously he's been through an awful lot with the accident so it would be very easy for him to slip back into relying on liquor," said Monica.

"Well, he certainly hasn't had the chance; apart from when he's here I haven't let him out of my sight," said Rupert defensively.

"Yes, he told me he'd been grounded after the incident with the police," said Monica with a smile, to show she was on the same side. "Had you noticed anything wrong before then?"

"No, nothing, he hid it totally from me. I was delighted he'd made some friends as I was worried he'd find it difficult to fit in, especially since he wasn't here at the start of term. I let him go out with Angel most evenings for an hour or two after school. In hindsight that wasn't a good thing. Angel certainly encouraged Spike to drink and was instrumental in getting him arrested."

"He did tell me all about it and if it were any boy other than Angel in the story I'd think it was just that; a story. But I honestly wouldn't put anything past Angel," said Monica, "He thinks he's above the rules because he can play football."

Oooooo

Neither Rupert nor Monica noticed Angel listening at the door.

"That freaking little English pansy," muttered Angel, "Telling tales like the girl he is. I'll fix him once and for all."

He sneaked away unseen.

Ooooooo

"So what do you think of Spike so far, Monica?" asked Rupert, "Do you think he's doing all right?"

"I think he will be, but I'm not convinced he's out of the woods yet," replied Monica, "He lacks self-confidence and I think that's why he was so easily led. How are the tutoring sessions going?"

Rupert chuckled, "Work-wise very well. He seems to be trying hard but I think he's a little uncomfortable around his tutor, Buffy Summers. I'm pretty sure he's got a crush on her."

"He did mention it," agreed Monica.

"He actually told you?" asked Rupert incredulously.

"Yes, he did, but he's certain she dislikes him."

"I'm afraid he may be right about that. She doesn't seem overly friendly towards him," said Rupert.

"Apparently she saw him taken away in the patrol car," said Monica.

"Oh," said Rupert. "Poor Spike, nothing has gone well for him for so long, it's about time his luck changed. I'm happy to see him becoming friends with Daniel Osborne - he seems a very grounded boy."

"He has had more than his fair share," agreed Monica, "I'm surprised at the way he dresses and the fact he bleaches his hair. I would have thought he wouldn't want to stand out like that. From what I've seen in my sessions, he seems quite shy.

Rupert told her of the day he first bleached his hair; the day he intended to run away.

"I think he felt the need to try to create a new persona after the loss of his family," said Rupert.

On that reflection, Monica made her excuses as she had another student to see.

Rupert stood up and shook her hand once more. "Thank you."

"Not a problem, Rupert," she replied, "Let me know if you have any worries regarding him."

To be continued …


	29. Chapter 29

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: Only the plot and Monica are my own!!

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Two weeks had passed and Spike's life had settled into a steady routine. He tried to concentrate harder in his classes. He worked hard with Buffy in his tutorials, trying to impress her but both were still awkward with each other. The part of the week that Spike liked best was Saturday evenings when Oz came over; it was the only time he truly felt at ease. He'd even sung a couple of 'Dingoes Ate My Baby' songs with Oz playing the guitar. It had taken a lot of persuasion but they'd had a laugh doing it.

So far at school he'd successfully avoided Angel, having lunch in the library with Rupert helping to keep him out of the way.

Angel had seethed over the past two weeks since overhearing Rupert and Monica and today he'd finally decided what to do about it. Angel cornered one of his regular victims, Jerry, as he left the cafeteria.

"Hey, Jerry, you're going to do me a little favour," he said.

"What do you want me to do?" asked Jerry, cringing away from him, "I don't want to get into trouble."

Angel slapped the hapless youth on the shoulder, "As if I'd try to get you into trouble," he laughed, "Don't worry, you won't get into trouble, in fact old Snyder will be delighted that you pointed it out to him."

"Pointed what out?" asked Jerry nervously.

"You're going to tell him that Spike Norman is drinking on school property every day," said Angel.

"He's drinking?"

"He is. The creep can't get through a day without topping himself up with vodka. He keeps it in his locker and puts it in his juice at lunchtime," said Angel. "I want you to tell Snyder now, before afternoon class starts."

"Okay," agreed Jerry, relieved that Angel wasn't going to pick on him. He remembered Spike laughing with Angel when he bullied him and so was glad to be able to get him into trouble.

Oooooo

An announcement was made over the public address system that pupils with lockers in row D must go and stand next to them ready for a locker search.

Spike wandered from the library to his locker. Oz walked with him as they'd been chatting in the library over lunchtime.

"Wonder wot all this is about?" asked Spike.

"They must be expecting to find something they shouldn't." replied Oz.

Spike's locker was about three-quarters of the way down the row. He stood next to it ready to open it up. The gathered students fell silent as Principal Snyder started the search - he was having the lockers opened four at a time. He seemed only to be giving a cursory glance into each one. Spike watched quizzically. It seemed to him that Snyder wasn't interested in the ones at that end of the row at all. He must know which locker he wanted to check and the others were just camouflage.

A few students had gathered to watch. Oz was standing several yards away talking to another boy. Spike met his eye and raised his eyebrows at him, meaning 'what's going on?' Oz shrugged in reply. Then Spike saw Angel, he was leaning against the wall and smiling at Spike. Spike's blood ran cold; no way could this be a coincidence.

"_Oh, Christ!" _

Spike suddenly remembered he'd told Angel his locker combination one time. He looked at Angel again; Angel nodded at him, answering his unasked question. Spike looked at Snyder as he rapidly worked his way down the row and he noticed Buffy and Willow were heading his way, too.

"_Oh, great. Now she's going to see me get bleeding expelled," _groaned Spike inwardly.

"Get the next four open now," ordered Snyder.

Spike's was the third of this batch; his hands trembled as he fumbled with the lock. Once opened, at first glance, all was as it should be. Then Spike saw it – the cap of a bottle sticking up at the back. He reached in and pulled it out; sure enough it was a half empty bottle of vodka. He held it in his hand. It was hidden from view by the half opened door of the locker. Unable to move, he knew he was totally trapped – again.

Suddenly it was snatched from his hand. He whirled round expecting to see Snyder but all he saw was Oz's back as he ambled along the corridor with Buffy and Willow.

"Step aside, Norman," growled Snyder.

"Huh?" said Spike.

"Something to hide? I said step out of the way," snapped Snyder.

"Oh sorry, sir. No, I've got nothin' to hide."

He moved away as Snyder methodically went through his locker, much more thoroughly than he had the others. Angel tensed as he heard Spike's words; this time it was Spike's turn to smile.

"Nothing," said Snyder in disgust.

"Check his bag, sir!" called Angel.

"Shut up, O'Connor," ordered Snyder. He glared at Spike, "Give me your bag."

Spike handed his knapsack over. Snyder tipped the contents onto the floor, and a can of Coke rolled away. Spike stopped it with his foot.

"What's that?" asked Snyder.

Spike bent down and picked it up, "It's just a soda left over from my lunch," he said, handing it to Snyder.

"Where's your bottle of juice?" he demanded.

"My wot?" asked Spike astonished, "I've just got that soda, the other empty can is in the bin in the library if you're that interested. I only have juice for breakfast."

"Shut up," snarled Snyder. He threw Spike's knapsack at him and slammed the locker door as he strode away, not continuing along the line.

Spike grinned at his receding back and silently offered his thanks to Oz for his rescue. Several of the other students chuckled and caught Spike's eye. For the first time ever at the school, he felt a sense of solidarity with his fellow pupils.

He looked over at Angel who was glaring ferociously but Spike didn't feel intimidated - he felt angry, he felt bleeding furious. Something snapped. He was sick of being a puppet, getting played all the time. He'd had enough. He met Angel's malevolent stare with a hard one of his own. He took a couple of steps towards him, fists clenched. Angel matched him. They were only about five feet away from each other; the other students backed away, knowing there was going to be trouble.

Spike began to raise his arm….

"It's about time you all went to class," called a voice.

Spike turned round. It was Monica. He held his ground but let his hand fall back to his side and unclenched his fist.

"Now," said Monica sharply, "Angel, Spike, get moving."

Spike shrugged and turned away.

"You're so dead," threatened Angel as he walked away.

"What was that, Angel?" asked Monica.

"Nothing, Miss." He stared after Spike for a moment longer and then walked away.

"_I wonder what provoked that?"_ thought Monica as she headed to her office. She was glad that Spike travelled home with Rupert, since it would keep him away from Angel after school.

Oooooo

Spike leapt from his seat the second the bell went for the end of the day and rushed out of the class. He didn't go to the library or to Rupert's car; he went to the bleachers. Angel was sitting there waiting, as he knew he would be. Spike's heart was in his mouth but all he could hear were James' words.

"_The bigger they are, the 'arder they fall."_

Angel stood up and sneered at Spike.

"Like I said before, 'English', you're fucking dead."

He strode to meet Spike. Spike didn't hesitate. Without breaking stride he hit Angel as hard as he could with his fist, it connected with a satisfying crunch on his nose. Angel dropped like a stone.

"Soddin' 'ell," shouted Spike, shaking his hand as a shaft of pain hit him.

Spike looked down at Angel - he was rolling on the floor, hands to his nose, which was pouring blood. All the years of bullying Spike had endured at Angel's hands burned through him. He saw red. He kicked him in the ribs as Angel was struggling to his feet. Angel groaned and fell back down.

"That's for the last bleeding six years, you bastard," said Spike, almost inaudibly.

He went to kick him again when he was grabbed from behind and pulled away.

"Get off of me!" shouted Spike, swinging a fist as he turned.

"Hey man! It's me!" said Oz, ducking the blow and letting go of him.

"Crap, Oz, I nearly hit you!" yelled Spike. He turned back to Angel who was on his knees gasping and wiping the blood from his face. Spike stepped towards him again.

"Don't." cried Oz, "Just leave him - you've made your point."

"Sod off, you don't know what it's been like having him on my back for so long," shouted Spike, forgetting his 'English' accent in his rage.

He reached down and got hold of Angel with both hands, gripping the front of his jacket, and pulled him to his feet.

"Where's your mate?" asked Spike, "Where's Davey?"

Angel shook his head then winced as his broken nose objected to the movement. Spike looked around. Davey was nowhere to be seen.

"Well, you tell him that if he so much as looks at me sideways I'll give him a bit of what I've given you. And you better keep out of my fucking way." It was all the more unnerving in that Spike said it so quietly.

He pulled back his fist, still holding him with his left hand. Angel cowered, which made Spike laugh - a hollow mirthless sound. As he brought his hand forwards Oz caught it with his own.

"Leave it, Spike," said Oz firmly. "He's had enough."

Spike resisted for a second then relaxed and let his hand fall. He pushed Angel away.

"Go on, sod off," he said.

Angel staggered backwards and then walked away, body hunched over. He kept looking back over his shoulder as if he expected Spike to rush him from behind.

As Spike went to walk away, he suddenly began to tremble. His knees felt weak and he sat down on the grass with a thump.

"Oh God," he sighed as the rage that had fuelled his attack on Angel ran out.

He looked up at Oz who was peering down at him.

"Man, where did all that come from?" said Oz.

"I dunno," said Spike, "Just had enough of it, I guess."

"Well, remind me not to piss you off, okay?" said Oz.

Their eyes met and they both started to laugh. This time Spike's was a proper laugh, not bitter and spiteful like before.

"Come on. Mr. Giles will be wondering where you are," said Oz, offering Spike a hand to help him up.

Spike reached out with his left hand but yelped as Oz got hold of it and pulled it away. He took Oz's hand with his right and stood up. He looked at his left hand as they walked to the parking lot. The knuckles were grazed and bruised and one joint looked a bit suspicious.

"You okay?" asked Oz.

"Not sure. I think I might 'ave done something to my 'and," replied Spike, wondering how he'd explain it to Rupert.

"No, I mean you. You really lost it, man, if I hadn't been there…."

"Yeah, I know I did," said Spike quietly. "Oh, and thanks for before."

"No problem, just figured you didn't need the hassle," said Oz.

"Angel put it in there, Oz, it wasn't mine," said Spike earnestly. "You believe me, don't you?"

"Sure I do. I saw the way he was watching you and then your face when you found it," replied Oz.

"Well, thanks. Snyder would 'ave booted me out for sure if he'd found it. Probably still will," said Spike.

"What for?"

"Breaking the star quarterback's nose," he replied.

"I don't think Angel will be saying anything about that to Snyder. You scared him half to death, Spike," said Oz, "Hell, you scared me!"

"Wot? Me?" said Spike, and then he grinned. "Yeah, I reckon I did, didn't I?"

They arrived at the parking lot. Rupert was at his car looking crossly at his watch.

"You even sounded different," said Oz.

Before Spike could reply Rupert called out to him.

"There you are, Spike. You know you're to meet me here immediately. Where have you been?"

"It's my fault, Mr. Giles. We were fooling about and Spike tripped up and hurt his hand," said Oz, saving Spike's skin for the second time that day, "Sorry, Spike," he said, looking at him.

"Uh, it's okay, mate, not your fault," replied Spike.

"Let me have a look at it," said Rupert.

Spike held his left hand out. Rupert touched the affected finger.

"Ow! Take it easy, it bloody hurts," complained Spike.

"I think we'd better get this checked out," said Rupert. "Do you want a ride home, Oz?" added Rupert, finally conceding to using his nickname.

"That'd be cool. Thanks."

Ooooooo

They dropped Oz off at his house then took Spike to get his hand looked at by a doctor.

"Hmm, I don't think it's broken," said the doctor, "We'll x-ray it to be certain."

Spike and Rupert waited for the results for what seemed like hours before Spike was called back into a cubicle.

"The good news, James, is that it's not broken," said the doctor. He took Spike's hand in his and ran his fingers over the sore finger. Swiftly, without warning, he gripped the finger and tugged hard.

"Shit!" Spike cried out in pain as there was an audible 'pop'.

"Sorry, James, but it's always easier when you're not expecting it," said the doctor with a smile.

"_Bleeding sadistic freak," _thought Spike.

"It was dislocated but it's back in place now. Can you move the joint?"

Spike flexed his finger; it was sore but moved with the others.

"That's good, now it will be sore for several days and vulnerable to dislocating again so take it easy with it – no more fighting."

"Wot? No, I told yer, I fell over," said Spike glancing over to see if Rupert could hear.

"Like I said, James, no more fighting," said the doctor, looking him in the eye.

"Okay," agreed Spike. "Thanks."

To be continued……..


	30. Chapter 30

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: only the plot is my own!

Chapter Thirty

The next day was Tuesday so Spike's first lesson was his counselling session with Monica.

"Hi, Monica," he said as he sat in his usual armchair.

"Morning, Spike. You seem pretty cheerful."

"Um, yeah, I think I am," said Spike with a grin.

"That's great! So what's changed?" asked Monica.

"Wot do yer mean?"

"You know what I mean," bluffed Monica.

Spike stayed quiet, turning her own technique back on her this time.

"_Okay, Spike, you've got me,"_ thought Monica. She changed tack. "So what was going on with that locker search yesterday?"

Spike shifted in his seat and looked uncomfortable.

"I dunno," he mumbled.

"So Principal Snyder didn't give a reason for it?"

"No, he just went down and checked the whole row."

"The whole row? It looked like he stopped at yours to me," said Monica firmly.

"Um, well, he must 'ave 'ad something else to do," said Spike.

"Oh come on, Spike, stop playing games. You know me well enough by now - just tell me the truth."

Spike sighed, "Well that happy didn't last long," he said grumpily.

Monica chuckled, "Stop being a drama queen, Spike."

"Okay, okay," said Spike, "He was only interested in my locker. He expected to find something in there."

"What?" prompted Monica.

Spike looked at her and raised his eyebrows, "Wot do yer think?"

"Did he find it?" asked Monica.

"Well since I'm sitting 'ere talking to you, yer must know that he didn't. I would've been expelled like a shot," said Spike.

"Why do you think he suspected you had liquor in there?"

"I don't know," replied Spike.

Monica knew he wasn't telling the truth.

"What was going on with you and Angel yesterday when I interrupted you?" she asked.

"Nothin' much," said Spike cagily, "We 'aven't really got on since …um…yer know."

"Looked a little more serious than that to me."

Spike just shrugged. Monica decided she'd pressed him enough for that session and lightened the mood by getting Spike talking animatedly about music.

Ooooooo

So it was with a spring in his step that Spike walked into the library for lunch.

"Hey, Rupert," Spike called as he threw his bag down on the table in the main room. He started to sit down but before his butt hit the chair Rupert called out.

"Come in here, Spike."

"What is it with these people today?" grumbled Spike as he walked into Rupert's office.

"I had a visit from Principal Snyder this morning," said Rupert.

"Oh?" said Spike, _"Crap, Angel's reported me."_

"He was asking me what drink you had with your lunch yesterday, even checked the bin. Why did he do that?"

"Um…well, he checked my locker just after lunch. I think he thought I was …er….was drinking again," replied Spike.

"And you didn't mention this to me because….?"

"I just forgot, Rupert, wot with going to the doctor about my hand and all," said Spike, "I didn't do anything wrong."

Rupert took a deep breath, "I'm sorry, Spike. It's just I don't like him being able to put me on the spot, the hateful little man."

Spike snickered at that, "So yer not mad at me?"

"No, Spike, I'm not. How is your hand?"

"Bloody sore but not too bad I suppose. I know I'm going to get marked down for my writing being untidy. Is it okay if I get my lunch?"

"Of course it is," said Rupert.

Spike walked out and sat down, leaning back in the chair and putting his feet on another, with his iPod in his ears blaring the Foo Fighters' latest track and happily munching his sandwich.

Ooooooo

The end of classes found Spike wandering back to the library. He hadn't seen Angel at school that day. He still couldn't believe what he'd done. He worried about what he might have done if Oz hadn't been there to stop him. Oz had been right when he'd said he'd lost it. The punch Angel deserved but the kick? Spike wasn't sure. He was lost in his thoughts and didn't hear his name being called.

"Er…Spike." It came again.

The voice was a little louder but still tentative. Spike looked around.

"Yeah?"

"Um…I just wanted to say that I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Wot for? You're…you're Jerry, right? English class," said Spike.

"Yes, I am. Angel made me do it so don't beat me up, okay? I only did it 'cause I thought he'd do something to me," babbled Jerry.

"Look mate, I 'aven't a clue wot you're talkin' about and relax - I'm not hitting anybody. Why would yer think I would?" said Spike, not liking the fear in Jerry's eyes. It reminded him too much of himself before he came back and also made him ashamed that he'd ever joined in with Angel's taunts.

"I was the one who told Snyder to look in your locker. I saw what you did to Angel after school."

"You did?" asked Spike. Jerry nodded, "Look I know Angel was behind it. I've got no problem with you.

"Thanks, Spike," said Jerry with relief and he started to walk away.

"Jerry?"

"Yeah."

"Let me know if Angel causes you any grief, okay?"

Jerry nodded again and scurried away.

"Okay," said Spike slowly as he watched Jerry leave, "Why did I say that? Spike the enforcer? Christ, who the hell do I think I am? Angel will probably cream me when he sees me next."

Ooooooo

Spike was a little late getting to the library and Buffy was already waiting. She looked up at him as soon as he walked in.

"_Uh oh,"_ he thought when he saw her expression, _"Wot now? This is some day I'm having."_

"Spike," said Buffy.

"Mm?"

She glanced at Rupert's office and waited until he'd sat down before speaking again.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she said.

"Look, Buffy," said Spike, "I've had a really weird day. Can you just get to the point, please?"

"Why didn't you tell me that Angel had set you up with the stealing?" asked Buffy.

Spike looked at her, eyes widening a little.

"Would you 'ave believed me?" he countered.

"What? Of course I would," protested Buffy.

"You didn't before."

"When?"

"At yer mom's gallery when I tried to tell you about the t-shirt at the mall. Can you remember wot yer said?"

Buffy blushed at the memory.

"So yer can see why I didn't bother," added Spike flatly.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, not meeting his eye.

"Bet it hurt to say that."

She looked up sharply, retort on her lips, but didn't say anything when she saw he was smiling at her. It turned into a grin when she smiled back at him.

"Oz told yer then?" said Spike, his heart still fluttering from the smile she'd given him.

"He had to, especially since I started telling him off for helping you out," said Buffy sheepishly.

Spike started to laugh.

"Stop it," snapped Buffy, "It's not funny."

Spike just laughed harder. It was infectious and soon Buffy was laughing helplessly too. Rupert looked out of his office at the pair of them, pleased to see they finally looked like they were getting along.

"Why did you laugh?" asked Buffy when they'd got their breath back.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to. It's just that you're always getting the wrong idea but you're so adamant that you're right.

"Hey! I am right – sometimes," said Buffy, "So why did Angel set you up like that?"

"'Cause I was stupid, I reckon. I made it easy for 'im. He didn't make me drink though; I was stupid enough to want to do that. I could've said no," said Spike. "I didn't steal that t-shirt, yer know. Angel did but he gave it to me." He looked at her to check if she believed him, "I don't blame yer for not wanting to 'ave anythin' to do with me. I didn't make a great first impression, huh?"

"But why did you tell me that you'd been in trouble with the cops before?" asked Buffy.

"I didn't. You asked me if it was the first time I'd been taken away by the police. It's not the same thing," said Spike, "I was put in a patrol car in London. I ….um…was gonna run away….but the police found me waiting for a bus up to Scotland so they took me home again."

"Why did you want to run away?" asked Buffy softly.

"Honestly? Mostly 'cause I didn't want to come 'ere and also 'cause I didn't want to be a burden to Rupert. I mean I've pretty well messed up his life by him 'aving to be my guardian."

"I don't think he sees it that way at all," said Buffy firmly, "He's proud of you. He told me."

"He did?" asked Spike, "Before all the trouble, no doubt?"

"Nope," said Buffy, "Just before you came in here tonight."

"Really?" said Spike, "Wow."

"Why so surprised?" asked Buffy.

"Well I 'ave made a bit of a balls up of things ever since the…um….crash." He looked down, avoiding her eyes.

There was an awkward silence, as neither really knew what to say. In the end Buffy broke it by suggesting they get on with the studying.

Spike grimaced as he went to pick up his pen and flexed his fingers a few times.

"Oh, what have you done to your hand?" asked Buffy, reaching out and touching it.

He pulled it away as if her touch scorched him, but it was the memory of her holding his hand in The Bronze that seared, not her touch.

"Did I hurt you?" asked Buffy.

"Um…no…well …a bit," stuttered Spike.

"How did you do that?"

"I …er...fell over," replied Spike, not able to meet her eyes.

"Yeah, right," said Buffy.

She waited to see if he was going to tell her the truth but when he stayed silent she just started getting her books out and they got down to work.

To be continued……..


	31. Chapter 31

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: They're not mine - I just like making 'em do things!!

Chapter Thirty-One

The first thing Spike saw when he got out of Rupert's car in the school parking lot the next morning was Angel.

"Bloody hell," he muttered.

"Did you say something?" asked Rupert as he locked the car doors.

Spike just shook his head. _"God, did I really do that?"_

Angel was walking slowly up the steps leading to the entrance, holding himself stiffly due to the bruising on his ribs. But it was the glimpse Spike had of his face that had shocked him. Both of Angel's eyes were blackened and his nose swollen and cut.

Rupert followed Spike's gaze and saw Angel disappearing into the school building.

"He hasn't been giving you any trouble, has he? I could have a word with Principal Snyder."

"Wot? No, no, he's not being any bother," said Spike quickly.

"That's good. I'd hate to think he was going to start to bully you like you told me he bullied poor William."

"Um…I don't think he's gonna do that," replied Spike, "I'll see you at lunchtime, okay?" and he hurried away from Rupert, not wanting the conversation to go any further.

Rupert watched Spike rush away, shaking his head slightly as he made his way to the library. He didn't think he'd ever work out what was going on in Spike's head; the boy was just a mass of contradictions.

Oooooo

Oz saw Spike as he walked into school building.

"Hey, Spike," he said, falling in step with him.

"Hi, Oz," Spike replied. He felt a little ashamed. This was the first time he'd seen Oz since he'd pulled him off Angel.

"Angel's in school today," said Oz.

"I know. I just saw him."

"Looks a bit of a mess."

"Well, it makes a change for it to be him," replied Spike baldly.

"You're not going to…" Oz's voice trailed off.

"Wot?" snapped Spike, "Carry on where I left off?"

Oz nodded, watching his friend carefully.

"It's not like he doesn't deserve it," said Spike, "Don't worry, it's over. I'm not looking to repeat it," he added as Oz gave him a bit of a 'look'.

"I know he's not cool but, man, you really went for him," said Oz.

"I know. I know," sighed Spike, "Not sure where all that came from. It must be after William telling me wot he did to him as much as wot he did to me."

"Anyway, one good thing came out of it," said Oz with a grin, patting Spike on his shoulder, "You've got a friend for life in me. I'm too scared to fall out with you!"

They both laughed.

"That'll never happen, mate," said Spike.

"Um…it might…I told the others about how he set you up with the locker and the stealing," said Oz.

"Yeah, I know. Buffy mentioned it last night."

"Oh right. I forgot you'd be seeing her after school. Sorry, I wanted to tell you first."

"That's okay. I'm glad she knows I'm not a thief. Not something yer want people thinkin' of yer."

"Since they all know now, why don't you come and have lunch with us?" asked Oz.

"I can't, Oz. I've still got to go to the library - still under military rule," Spike replied, relieved that he had a genuine reason not to join them. It would just be too strange.

"I forgot about that," said Oz, "I'll probably come to see you then. I want to talk to you about some of your lyrics. I've had some ideas for the music to set them to."

"Cool," said Spike. He'd finally plucked up enough nerve to show Oz his 'poetry'.

Ooooooo

Spike was walking to the last class before lunch when he saw Angel coming out of Snyder's office.

"_Holy crap, I really am in for it now,"_ thought Spike, standing still and watching Angel walk towards him.

"Spike," said Angel when he spotted him.

"Angel," Spike returned, fixing him with a defiant stare.

"Snyder wanted to know what happened to me 'cause I can't train for two or three weeks," said Angel, not quite meeting Spike's eye.

"And?" said Spike, feeling the anger bubbling inside him. If he'd gotten him into more trouble….

"I told him I was running and tripped and hit my face on a post," said Angel.

"Did he buy it?" asked Spike.

"I think so," replied Angel, "So we're even then? Just keep out of each other's way? He looked at Spike.

Spike grinned at him. He reached up and gave Angel's cheek a light slap, laughing as Angel flinched when he brought his hand up.

"Yeah, we're even," he said and he stepped aside to allow Angel to pass, "Oh, just one thing."

Angel turned back to face him.

"If I hear you've done anything to Jerry our deal's off. The truce is over, get it?"

"Got it," said Angel, a touch weakly.

"Great," said Spike and he walked off to class.

Ooooooo

At lunchtime Spike had been in the library for about twenty minutes when he heard the doors open. He looked up to see who was coming in. When he saw who it was he nearly dropped his sandwich. Oz was walking in followed by Willow, Xander and Buffy.

"Hey Spike, you okay with having a bit of company?" asked Oz.

"Um…yeah….no worries," stuttered Spike, avoiding everyone's eyes.

They all dropped their bags down and sat around the table; Oz nearest to Spike then Buffy, Xander and Willow.

"Hi, Spike," said Buffy, "Have you done any work on that English assignment yet?"

"Um…no not yet," replied Spike. "Gonna do it tonight. You'll be able to see it tomorrow. It's not due 'til Friday." He sounded a little defensive.

"_Why did I say that?" _Buffy groaned to herself, _"Why did I just have to talk shop?"_

"Er…so how are you settling in here in Sunnydale?" tried Xander.

Spike looked at him in amazement. "Wot? Yer mean apart from getting busted for stealing, nearly being kicked out of school and being grounded for, well, probably forever?"

"Um, yeah," said Xander with a sheepish grin.

"Oh, in that case, I'm settling in great!" replied Spike with a smile. Xander might be prone to putting his foot in it but he wasn't a bad guy.

They all laughed at that.

"How long do you think you'll be grounded for?" asked Oz.

"I 'onestly don't know. Rupert was a bit wound up about the locker search but was okay about it in the end. So hopefully he hasn't added any time onto it."

"He shouldn't since you weren't in the wrong," said Buffy.

Spike risked a glance at her. Their eyes met and he looked away quickly, blushing.

"So Willow, you're the top of the year now then?" asked Spike.

"How do you know that?" asked Willow. She looked at Buffy who shook her head. She hadn't mentioned it.

"_Shit. That's something William would know, not Spike,"_ thought Spike, "Um…William told me that you were the only one to give him a run for his money to be the top student."

"He did?" asked Willow, "Wow, that was sweet of him. I did beat him in history a couple of years ago though."

"Yeah, I know," said Spike ruefully. _"I've done it again!"_ "I mean, he said he was annoyed at being beaten."

"So did William tell you about us all?" asked Buffy.

"_What can I say now? I can't talk about bloody William for the next half hour," _thought Spike desperately. "He…er…he…" he faltered. He looked at them and saw that they all looked a bit uncomfortable. They obviously thought it was too painful for him to talk about, which it was - just not for the reason they were thinking. "He told me a bit about you guys. Said he'd had fun at The Bronze one night."

"Yeah?" said Buffy.

Spike couldn't look at Buffy, he just fiddled with his can of Coke.

"It was a good night, just wish I'd gotten a chance to repeat it," she added sadly.

Spike's heart missed a beat. It sounded like she really liked him. Then it fell to his boots as it dawned on him that it was William she liked; quiet, bookish, mousy William, not always in trouble Spike.

"_Oh God, I've messed everything up. All because I was too much of a coward to come back as William,"_ he thought in despair.

Oz noticed how discomforted Spike had become and was regretting asking everyone to come with him. Despite the façade Spike projected and the fact that he'd hammered Angel on Monday, Oz knew Spike was actually almost painfully shy- just like William had been. He needed to lighten the mood.

"So Spike, do you reckon if we work on Mr. Giles he'll let you come to see the Dingoes play Thanksgiving weekend at The Bronze?"

"Wot?" said Spike, lost in his thoughts, "Um…I dunno…not sure he'll trust me anywhere near The Bronze, wot with all the liquor in there."

"Surely he will if I say I'll make sure you only have soda?" coaxed Oz, "We can ask him on Saturday."

"We can give it a try but he hasn't mentioned anything about easing off on me. Can't blame him. Don't think there's a standard for getting carted off by the cops and being pissed up in school," said Spike dryly.

"Saturday?" asked Xander, "Why Saturday?"

Oz looked at Spike apologetically, realising that he'd let the cat out of the bag about meeting up. Spike gave a small shrug to let him know it was okay.

"I've been going round to Spike's on Saturday evenings for the past few weeks," said Oz.

Willow gave him a bit of a sharp look and Spike stifled a chuckle at the thought that it wasn't only him who was capable of getting himself into trouble.

"Hey, have you seen Angel today?" asked Buffy.

"_Oh great." _thought Spike, _"This conversation is just getting better and better."_

They all nodded.

"So what do you think happened to him?" continued Buffy, "Do you think he finally picked on someone his own size?"

Oz and Spike daren't look at each other, both thinking that he'd actually met someone much smaller than him!

"He told everybody in my class that he tripped," said Xander.

"Yeah, tripped onto somebody's fist," said Willow.

Spike put his grazed, swollen left hand under the table.

"Well, whatever has happened to him, at least it's kept him pretty quiet today," said Buffy, "and that can't be a bad thing. Long may it last."

"It'll make a lot of people breath easier if it does," said Xander.

The bell for the end of lunch sounded and they all made their way out of the library, Oz hanging back with Spike.

"You didn't mind them coming along, did you?" asked Oz.

"Er…no...it's okay," said Spike.

"They're good fun. Buffy can be a bit intense but she's nice when you get to know her."

Spike nodded. "She's okay," he said, blushing slightly, "We're getting on a bit better in the tutorials, probably mostly due to you letting her know I'm not a thief, I think."

"That's cool. I'll see you later," said Oz as he left Spike to go to class.

"See yer," replied Spike.

To be continued….


	32. Chapter 32

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: They're not mine; I just play with them a bit!

Chapter Thirty-Two

Spike was waiting in the library the next day for Buffy to arrive. He'd made sure he'd finished the English assignment so that she could go over it with him, or more accurately because he wanted to try to impress her. He'd worked hard on it the evening before and whilst he wasn't convinced it was as good as his work pre-accident he was sure it was the best he'd done so far. The one snag with doing well was the fact that his grades would increase and the tutorials would end.

Rupert walked out of his office. "Buffy not here yet?"

"Nope," replied Spike.

He was feeling nervous. He hadn't seen her since lunchtime yesterday and knowing she'd had feelings for him before he'd gone to London made him anxious to at least get to be her friend.

"I have something to tell you," said Rupert seriously, taking off his glasses and wiping them. "I've had everything come through from the lawyers finally and I can now get on with selling Jayne's house. I've organised to have tomorrow afternoon off work so I can have a look through the contents before I arrange to have it cleared."

"Wot?" said Spike. He felt like his heart would stop. His home was going to be cleared. All his stuff just thrown away.

"Can't I come too?" he asked in a small voice.

"No, Spike. I can't let you miss any lessons. I'm only going myself to try to find a memento of Jayne and William to keep. Then I'll leave it all in the hands of the agents. I'm not looking forward to it at all," replied Rupert.

Spike blinked back tears but couldn't think of a good enough reason to make him change his mind.

"So I need you to make your own way home tomorrow after school," continued Rupert, "Can you do that for me?"

"'Ow old do yer think I am?" snapped Spike, "Course I can find my bloody way home."

"Hey, Spike, no need to be like that," reprimanded Rupert.

Buffy chose that moment to enter the library. She hesitated when she saw Spike scowling furiously and Rupert standing next to him cleaning his glasses so vigorously that she thought he'd break them.

"_Oops, wonder what I'm interrupting?"_ thought Buffy as she walked slowly to the table.

"I'll leave you to it," said Rupert and he disappeared into his office.

Spike was struggling to keep his emotions in check. He'd never really thought about his home being sold. Since he'd been grounded he hadn't seen the place. When he'd been drinking he not only went there to raid his mother's stash of liquor but to take a bit of comfort from seeing the familiar surroundings. It had helped him remember his mom. Now it was all just going to be disposed of and, because he'd taken James' identity, there was nothing he could do about it.

Spike glared at Buffy as she sat down, not because he was angry with her but rather at himself for being so stupid to think he could alter things for the better by changing lives. He'd screwed up any chance of being with Buffy on top of everything else. She only thought of William.

"Hey," said Buffy, holding her hands up as she sat down next to him, "Whatever's going on with you and Mr. Giles, I'm not a part of it, okay?"

"I'm sorry, it's just…" he stopped. What could he say?

"None of my business," said Buffy briskly, not wanting to get involved.

"No, it's not that," said Spike, "I'm just kind of screwed up, I guess." He sighed deeply. "I did that assignment though. Do you want to have a look at it before I hand it in?"

He passed it to Buffy. He noticed her looking at his hand; it was multicoloured with bruising.

"Oh," she said.

"Oh, wot?" asked Spike.

"Just figured it out," said Buffy, "It was your fist that Angel tripped onto, wasn't it?"

Spike looked anxiously at Rupert's office door - it was closed.

"Um…yeah," he said, deciding that lying about it would be worse than the truth.

"Oh," repeated Buffy.

"_Great,"_ thought Spike, _"And her opinion of me just keeps getting lower."_

"Don't really blame you after all he did to you," said Buffy.

He looked up, "Yeah?"

She looked at him intensely but for once he held her gaze.

"Yeah, he's had it his own way for too long," said Buffy, "He gave William hell for years and we all just stood by and let it happen. I didn't bother trying to get to know William until it was too late."

"_Soddin' William again,"_ thought Spike.

"I got lucky. If he comes for me again I'll be history," said Spike, hoping she didn't now think he was a thug too.

Buffy smiled at him. "I must say I am surprised you fought him," she said.

"Why?" asked Spike, _"Thinks I'm a wimp, not a thug, huh?"_

"Well…it's just…no, it's stupid," she stopped.

"Go on, tell me," coaxed Spike.

"Well, it's just that sometimes you really remind me of William then something happens and I don't think you're like him at all," said Buffy.

It was Spike's turn to say 'oh'.

"Told you it was stupid," said Buffy, feeling embarrassed.

"No, not stupid," said Spike softly, "Probably nicest thing anyone's said to me."

"You're fooling with me," protested Buffy.

"I'm not – you obviously liked William a lot so I'll take it as a compliment that I remind you of him, even if it is only every now and then," said Spike, somehow finding the courage to meet her eyes.

"_God, his eyes are just the same, but more intense,"_ thought Buffy.

Spike leant forward, still looking deeply into her eyes. Buffy's lips parted slightly…

"How are you getting on?" asked Rupert.

Spike started at his uncle's voice and sat up straight.

"Er…yes…good, thanks. Buffy's just looking over that work I did last night," said Spike quickly.

Buffy looked down at the papers Spike had given to her and made a good show of reading it but her mind was racing. Had he been going to kiss her? Had she wanted him to? She glanced at Spike but he was studiously avoiding looking at her, just messing about with his books. She started to read through his work. It was good, much better than anything he'd done so far.

"Spike, this is really good," said Buffy.

"Thanks," said Spike, not looking up.

"Seriously, if you keep this up, you'll be the one tutoring me," she added.

Spike risked a small smile. _"God, why did Rupert have to come in just then? He knew he didn't have the nerve to try to kiss her again. He still couldn't believe he had in the first place."_ "I dunno about that," he said shyly.

"You'll soon have your grades up," said Buffy. "You won't need the extra tutoring."

"Not much incentive to work hard then," muttered Spike.

"What was that?" asked Buffy.

"Um…nothin'," said Spike, flushing.

Buffy smiled to herself. She'd heard him and was pleased to know that he wasn't looking forward to the tutorials ending either.

To be continued……..


	33. Chapter 33

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Spike was restless all evening. He kept thinking of how his own and his mom's belongings would just be disposed of. He looked at the clock on his bedside table – one thirty. He stared at it for a time then made his decision and got out of bed. He quickly got dressed, took the key to his own home from the drawer where he'd hidden it, grabbed his duster and crept out of the apartment.

Half an hour later he was outside his former home, knapsack in one hand, flashlight in the other. He stared at it for a few minutes before walking around the side to get to the back door. He didn't turn the flashlight on in case anyone spotted it; but regretted it as almost immediately, he tripped over something on the ground and fell against a trashcan with a clatter. He held his breath and stood still. He heard nothing and so snapped on the flashlight and continued to the door. He slipped his key into the lock and quickly stepped inside, closing it behind him. He leant his back against the door. The house was cold and silent. It felt to Spike as if the house had died along with its occupants; there was no feeling of welcome in it.

He walked into his mom's bedroom and sat on the bed. The room was exactly as she'd left it; door to the closet open as she'd searched at the last minute for something - he couldn't remember what.

"Oh God," he muttered, laying down sobbing into the pillows. "I miss you so much."

The worse thing was there was absolutely no essence of her left in the house at all; no connection for him to feel, no comfort for him to draw on. She was gone, totally gone - forever.

He sat back up and wiped his eyes. There were no photographs for him to get of her; no family snaps. His father had burnt all of the photos in the house in a fit of rage, when Spike was a young child. His mom's state of mind after his father had been jailed had been so poor that no more had ever been taken.

Spike looked around the room once more before walking through to his own. He stared at its sparse and worn furnishings and thought of all the hours he'd spent in there with his books, escaping from a reality that had so rarely given him any pleasure.

He walked to the bookcase and started to take books from the shelves and put them in the knapsack. He chose the ones he'd loved the best. As Spike he hadn't read at all, instead losing himself in music, but looking at them he realised he'd missed his old friends. He put all the Dresden Files into his bag along with his Harlan Coben collection and the hardbacks of English classics that his aunt had sent him over the years. He pulled open the door to his closet and peered at the few clothes hanging up in it. He smiled ruefully; there was nothing in there that 'Spike' would want to wear. He sighed deeply and walked out into the hall. He paused as he thought he heard a car outside. He listened intently, heart pounding, but there was no sound of car doors opening or closing so he reckoned that it had driven by. He carried on and was just about four yards from the door when it was cautiously opened.

"Freeze! Police!" shouted a gruff voice.

"_Oh fuck," _thought Spike. Needless to say he froze.

The beam of the second cop's flashlight shone in his face. Spike blinked and put his hand up to shield his eyes.

"I said freeze," growled the cop, his gun trained unwaveringly on Spike's chest.

"Okay," said Spike.

"Put the bag on the floor – slowly," the officer ordered, "Keep your hands in sight."

Spike let the bag drop to the floor with a thud and raised his hands at waist height, palms facing the two policemen.

"I haven't done anything wrong," he said quietly.

"Shut up and turn around. Put your hands behind your back."

Spike did as he was told. As soon as he turned his wrists were roughly grabbed and he felt the cold metal and heard the click of the cuffs as they were snapped into place. One of the officers started to read him his rights- the words didn't register.

"I haven't done anything wrong," he repeated.

"Save it."

One officer indicated for him to walk out of the house, the other picked up his bag. As he stepped outside Spike had the beam of another flashlight shine in his face. He squinted and lowered his head.

"They've got you. Good job, too," said Mrs. Johnson from next door, "Breaking into a house and stealing from the dead – it's sick. He's been hanging round a lot, knew he was up to no good. Look at him, with the hair and the black coat; trouble, that's what he looks like and that's what he is."

"But I didn't…." started Spike.

"I've told you to keep quiet," ordered the officer, giving him a push, "Thank you for calling it in, very neighbourly of you."

Mrs. Johnson puffed up at the cop's words. "It was the least I could do. Mrs. Pratt had a hard life but her son William meant the world to her. He was such a good boy. Tragic, that's what it is, to be killed on vacation like that…."

"Yes, well, thank you again," interrupted the cop, "It's late. Why don't you go back to your bed? We've got him now and he won't be bothering you again."

He prodded Spike again, "Go on – get moving."

Spike stepped forwards, almost falling, the cop getting hold of his shoulder just in time. He was bundled into the rear seat of the patrol car and driven to the station. He gave his name to the officer when he was booked in. A few taps on the computer showed he'd been in there before although all charges had been dropped.

"Put him in room three until his guardian gets here."

"_Oh sodding hell,"_ thought Spike, _"Rupert's going to freak."_

"Look, I didn't break in or steal anything," protested Spike, "I have a key, it's my h….er…my cousin's house. It's only some books."

The officer just ignored him and led him to room three. He pointed at a chair near a table and Spike sat in it, then the officer turned to leave.

"Hey, aren't you going to take the cuffs off?" asked Spike.

The officer fixed him with a hard stare. Spike quailed under it, and then the officer left, locking the door behind him.

"Good plan, Spike," he said quietly, "Wouldn't it have just been easier to tell Rupert that you wanted some of William's books? Soddin' stupid bloody prat." He leant forwards and slowly banged his forehead on the table a couple of times.

Spike had no idea how long he sat there but it was long enough for his shoulders and arms to start to protest at being held behind his back. He cringed as the door opened, and looked at the table.

Rupert walked into the room. His heart went out to Spike sitting there in handcuffs looking petrified, but did the boy ever know how to make the wrong decisions? He didn't speak as the officer who walked in behind him went over to Spike.

"Stand up," barked the cop.

Spike stood up so quickly he almost knocked the chair over. His eyes were still fixed on the table. The handcuffs were removed and Spike brought his hands in front of him and rubbed his wrists in relief. He daren't look at the still silent Rupert. He knew he'd really messed up this time.

"He's all yours," said the officer.

"_What?"_ Spike looked up.

"Come on," said Rupert.

Spike followed him out noticing that he was carrying his knapsack. Spike took a look at his watch - it was after four am. They'd certainly taken their time to get hold of Rupert.

The journey home was silent. Spike felt almost sick with nerves. This was worse than getting shouted at. Once they were home Rupert walked into the kitchen.

"Tea?" he asked.

"Um…yeah…please," replied Spike, sitting down at the dining table.

Several minutes later Rupert reappeared and sat down opposite Spike, pushing a mug of tea towards him.

"So?" he asked.

Spike looked at him. To his surprise Rupert didn't look angry, just perhaps disappointed, resigned. He couldn't decide if that was better or worse than anger. What could he say? He opted, wisely, for the truth – well, more or less anyway.

"I just wanted to get some of …er…William's books. He loved them and I couldn't stand the thought of them just getting sold off or thrown away. I didn't break in. I'd found a key."

"Why didn't you just tell me that you wanted the books?"

"I'm not sure," said Spike honestly, "I didn't think you'd understand why I wanted them. Why I couldn't just let them go."

"How did you know where the house was? We've never been there."

"William gave me his address and I was curious, I guess. I went to have a look, not tonight, but soon after we got here. That's when I found the key."

"That neighbour said she'd seen you there many times."

"Yeah, I went quite a bit when I was…er…when I was drinking," said Spike, avoiding Rupert's eye, "I've done it again, 'aven't I? I've totally screwed everything up again. I know you won't believe me but I'm really sorry I've let you down again." His voice cracked a little and tears brimmed in his eyes, threatening to spill.

"Oh, Spike," said Rupert, walking round to him and putting a hand on his shoulder, "All this could have been avoided if you'd only opened up to me a little. Promise me that in the future if you feel so strongly about something you'll just talk to me before you go and do anything rash."

"I will, Rupert, I promise," said Spike in a small voice.

"Now get to bed. You can get a couple of hours sleep before school."

"Okay." He stood up.

"Don't forget your bag," said Rupert, holding it out for him, "Not after you went to all that trouble for it."

Spike met Rupert's eye and visibly relaxed as he saw him smiling at him. He took the bag, muttered his thanks and went to gratefully to his room. He sat at his desk, took the books out of the bag and carefully stacked them on his desk. Then he wearily pulled off his clothes and fell into bed. He surprised himself by falling asleep instantly.

Ooooooo

Rupert nursed his cup of tea for some time after Spike had gone to bed. His thoughts went back to the conversation he'd had at the police station. They hadn't been impressed that Spike had once more been in trouble but had had no charges raised. He had been told that if something like this happened again that they'd be charged with wasting police time. Rupert had decided not to tell Spike of this. The boy seemed to make everything so difficult for himself as it was – he didn't want to add to it.

He took his mug back in to the kitchen and followed Spike's lead by going to bed; but, unlike Spike, he found he couldn't sleep. He thought of the times he'd spoken to Spike's mom Julia and how she'd said what an easy boy he'd been to raise, never giving them any worries at all. Popular at school, confident, always letting them know where he was when he went out. Rupert was worried about Spike – there was no denying it. He knew he wasn't a bad kid but he just seemed to lurch from one problem to another.

To be continued……..


	34. Chapter 34

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: I'm just playing with them okay?

Chapter Thirty-Four

Spike groaned as he was awoken by his alarm clock. He fumbled to turn it off, knocking it onto the floor without managing to quiet the alarm.

"Bloody hell," he muttered, climbing out of bed and finally turning the thing off.

Spike heard Rupert coming down the stairs from his bedroom; he tensed and waited for the inevitable knock on the door. But Rupert walked by without coming in. Spike breathed out in relief. Mind you, he still had to face him, and that was something he wasn't looking forward to. He walked over to his desk and touched the pile of books he'd rescued last night. They were all well used, fairly tatty copies but whatever punishment Rupert dealt out as far as he was concerned they were well worth it. He got dressed and put his hand on the door handle.

"Okay, here goes," he said to himself as he walked out to join Rupert.

Rupert was in the kitchen. Spike walked over and leant against the doorway.

"Um…mornin'," he said.

Rupert turned to look at him. "Good morning, Spike. How are you feeling? Not too tired, I hope?"

Spike, who'd been expecting a lecture, was surprised at how laid-back Rupert seemed.

"No, I'm okay, thanks," he replied. "Look, Rupert." He cleared his throat nervously, "I'm really sorry about last night. I should 'ave just talked to you about it. I can't believe I was so stupid. Again."

"You do seem to have a knack of getting into trouble," said Rupert dryly, handing Spike a bacon sandwich and mug of tea. "Come on, let's sit down."

"_Here we go. One well deserved lecture coming up,"_ thought Spike.

They sat in their usual places. Spike munched nervously on his sandwich, waiting for Rupert to speak. He didn't have long to wait.

"Right, Spike, I've done some thinking," said Rupert, taking off his glasses and cleaning them - a sign, Spike had learned over the past months, to be a precursor to something serious.

Spike nodded.

"I've been thinking about what I should do," continued Rupert, "about you being grounded.

"I know," interrupted Spike, "Until I'm like thirty, yeah? I'll tell Oz not to come over tomorrow, okay?"

"No, Spike, that's not what I was going to say. Oz is a sensible boy and looks like he's turning into a good friend for you," replied Rupert, "So I'm going to de- ground you or un-ground you, or whatever the term is."

Spike couldn't help but snicker at Rupert tying himself in knots. "Really?"

"Yes," said Rupert with a smile, putting on his glasses. "There will be some conditions, though."

"Yeah, conditions. No problem," said Spike eagerly, delighted that he could still see Oz on Saturdays.

"You will let me know where you are at all times. I will get you a cell phone and it has to be with you and turned on so I can get in touch if I need to. If you want to go out you will organise it in advance, not just come home and expect to go out that night," said Rupert firmly. "And there is a ten thirty curfew – no exceptions – for the first month, and then we'll take it from there. All right?"

"It's more than all right, Rupert. More than I deserve, I reckon," said Spike. "How come?"

"Well, I think most of the trouble you have had is because you're isolated. By bringing you here I took you away from your friends. You haven't really got anybody to talk to and by grounding you I've isolated you even more. You have got to start to open up to someone, Spike. You obviously can't talk to me or even to Monica very well, so perhaps being able to mix with a few friends will help."

"Thanks Rupert," said Spike.

Ooooooo

Spike wasn't sure how he got through morning classes. He was so tired he almost nodded off in Mrs. Bernstein's - mind you that wasn't so surprising as she was so boring he normally had trouble keeping his eyes open. He was walking towards the library for lunch when he saw Rupert approaching.

"Spike, I'm just on my way over to Jane's house, so I'll see you back at home later."

"Okay," said Spike.

Rupert looked at him seriously, "You're sure you're alright about this now, aren't you? Did you get everything you wanted? It's not like it will all be cleared today. If you like we can go back over to the house at the weekend?"

"Thanks, Rupert, but it's okay. I've got enough," replied Spike. He really didn't want to go back there any more. That part of his life was over; he could more easily accept it now.

Oz joined them just as Rupert started to leave.

"Hello, Oz," said Rupert, "Since I'm not at the library, Spike, why don't you go to the cafeteria with Oz? Perhaps tell him your good news?"

"Um, yeah," said Spike doubtfully. He enjoyed his seclusion in the library. "See yer later."

Rupert smiled at him, nodded and walked away.

"What news?" asked Oz.

"Um…well, I'm not grounded anymore," said Spike.

"That's great!" exclaimed Oz, "Why so hesitant about it? Come on, let's go and find the others." He started to walk but stopped when he realised Spike was stationary. "Come on, what's the hold up?"

"Er…well…" stuttered Spike, "I …er…I wouldn't be in the way, would I? It's just that you guys 'ave known each other for years."

"Don't be stupid," said Oz, "They won't bite. It'll be fun. Even William got to know them a little and he was way more shy than you are. Now you can come out you'll have to get to know them. I go out with them on Fridays and it's silly for you to stay in just 'cause you don't know them."

"Okay," said Spike reluctantly and he followed Oz to the cafeteria.

Oz pushed the door open and he and Spike walked in. Xander, Buffy and Willow were sitting at a round table in the middle of the cafeteria. They all smiled as they sat down and said 'hi' to each other.

"Spike's not grounded anymore," announced Oz.

"Hey, that's great," said Willow warmly. "You'll be able to come to see the Dingoes now."

"Yeah, that'll be fun," said Spike shyly, "Got a ten thirty curfew though."

"We'll be finished by then so you won't miss anything," said Oz.

"Are you all going?" asked Spike, casting a glance at Buffy.

She caught his eye and smiled broadly, "Yeah, we're all going so you've got no excuse not to come too."

Spike flushed and returned her smile.

"So you're not stuck in the library at lunchtimes anymore?" asked Xander.

"Um, I'm not totally sure," replied Spike, "Rupert's not there today. He's got the afternoon off to see to…er…some stuff. He might want me back there on Monday."

"So how come he decided to stop you being grounded?" asked Buffy.

Spike looked at the faces around him and Rupert's words about opening up to people played through his mind. He took a deep breath…

"It's a pretty long story and a pretty stupid one," he said, and then paused.

"Aw, c'mon, you can't just say that and stop," said Willow.

Spike tried a grin. "Okay, but I'm warning you, it is stupid and" he looked at Buffy, "it includes another patrol car."

"What? Oh my God, what have you been doing?" cried Buffy, eyes wide.

"Well, it started with a stupid idea that turned into an even more stupid plan," teased Spike, enjoying having them hanging on his words, shyness temporarily forgotten.

Xander gave him a playful thump on the arm. "Get on with it," he urged.

So Spike told them of last night's adventure. When he'd finished there was a bit of a stunned silence, just long enough for him to panic that he shouldn't have told them.

"That wasn't stupid," said Buffy softly, "I think it was a lovely thing to do."

"Would've been a hell of a lot easier if I'd just told Rupert what I wanted to do though," replied Spike, "I 'ave to say I didn't enjoy sitting there handcuffed for ages."

"No, I can see why you'd not like that. Did your arms hurt?" asked Xander.

"Yeah, and look," replied Spike, offering his right wrist for them to see.

"That looks sore," observed Willow.

"It is," said Spike, rubbing at the chafed skin. "That was the one they put on first and I think they put it on a bit tight."

Buffy reached out and touched the red mark on his wrist.

"Ouch!" he yelped.

"Oh God, I'm sorry," said Buffy, whipping her hand away.

Spike chuckled and grabbed her hand, holding it for a moment before letting go. "Only kidding."

"What? said Buffy, "Oh, you pig." She laughed and the others joined in, too.

Oz smiled to himself, delighted to see Spike coming out of his shell. He knew from his Saturday visits that Spike was a good storyteller.

Ooooooo

Spike wandered contentedly home. He couldn't believe that something he thought had ended in disaster had turned out to his advantage. He grinned at the thought of how he'd joked with Buffy. She seemed to enjoy it. He was surprised to see Rupert's car outside the apartment. He had thought he would have been back late.

"I'm home," he called as he went in.

"Hi, Spike, did you have a good day?"

"Yeah, I did," replied Spike. He went into his bedroom to put his schoolbag there and stopped short when he saw Rupert in there.

"_What's he doing? Checking up on me?"_ thought Spike. Rupert had always, up to that point, respected Spike's space and had never gone in there uninvited.

"So, what do you think?" asked Rupert.

Spike looked to where Rupert was standing.

"Oh, Rupert, that's great. Thank you." His eyes lit up when he saw what he'd done.

"I just thought since you went to quite a bit of trouble to get them that they'd better have a proper home," said Rupert, showing Spike the bookshelf he'd put up above his computer desk.

Spike walked to join Rupert. He couldn't believe he'd done something like that for him after all the hassle he'd yet again caused. Spike vowed then never to cause Rupert any more trouble.

To be continued…….


	35. Chapter 35

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the plot!

Chapter Thirty-Five

Spike had had a good weekend. On Saturday he'd tried to repay the kindness Rupert had shown by making him a traditional English breakfast. Spike's plan backfired slightly due to the fact that he seriously couldn't cook. But Rupert gamely tucked into his burnt bacon, undercooked eggs and surprisingly nice sausages.

In the evening Spike and Oz had gone through the songs the Dingoes were singing at Thanksgiving and Oz surprised Spike by playing him a melody he'd put to one of Spike's lyrics.

Ooooooo

Spike was walking into the school building on Monday morning when he heard a girl's voice call out.

"Hi!"

He looked up and saw a tall slim brunette walking towards him. She was immaculately dressed in a short brown skirt, tight fitting cream top and high-heeled pumps. Cordelia Chase - cheerleader extraordinaire – most popular girl in school - was smiling broadly. Spike glanced over his shoulder to see who she was looking at. There was no one behind him. He looked back at Cordelia.

"Oh, Spike, you're so funny," she trilled.

"Wot?" he asked, puzzled.

She got to him and linked her arm through his.

"So how was your weekend?" she said, walking with him.

"Erm…yeah, it was good, thanks," replied Spike.

"Great, I had a lovely one too. I went shopping and found the most gorgeous dress for the dance. It's royal blue so you'll have to get a tie to match," she gushed.

Spike stood still, "I wot?"

"You need to make sure you have a royal blue tie," stated Cordelia.

"Why do I need a blue tie?" asked Spike. _"Wot the hell is she going on about?"_

"So that we match, of course. I know you haven't got a car so I'll pick you up, okay?"

Spike shook off her arm. "Cordelia, wot are yer goin' on about?"

Cordelia frowned at him, "Us going to the seniors Thanksgiving Dance together, silly. Oh look, there's Harmony. I'll see you later about what time I'll collect you. Harm! Wait for me!" she said and she hurried away.

Spike stood there bemused for a moment then shrugged and made his way to class.

Ooooooo

Out of habit he made his way to the library for lunch, eating it alone while listening to his iPod. Rupert told him he no longer needed to check in with him each day. He could go to the cafeteria if he wanted but for today he stayed where he was.

In English class the teacher had made a point of commenting to the class how good Spike's latest assignment had been. He and Buffy caught each other's eyes, both enjoying the fact that their efforts were being appreciated. Spike had forgotten the kick he got from doing good academic work.

"_Yeah, Willow, watch out. Old Spike might give you a run for your money after all,"_ he thought with a smile.

The rest of the day passed quickly and after school Spike walked home with Oz. Rupert had encouraged him to make his own way home, although the offer of a ride was always there.

The pair of them talked about the upcoming Dingoes Ate My Baby concert which was taking place the Saturday of Thanksgiving weekend. It would be the first time they'd played in about two months as Devon and Oz kept arguing all the time. Oz wanted to start to do mostly original songs whereas Devon was happy to belt out cover versions of well-known songs. In the end the other band members had managed to arrange a compromise with four of Oz's songs being included in the set. Oz had conceded, as without the lead singer there would be no concert anyway. Spike promised to make sure he was allowed out to go see them even though he was very apprehensive about asking to go to The Bronze again.

Ooooooo

On Tuesday Spike went for his regular session with Monica.

"Morning, Spike. How are you today?" she asked as he settled himself into his usual chair.

"Hi Monica," replied Spike, "Yeah, I'm good, thanks. I'm not grounded anymore. I'm a free man." He grinned at her.

"That's good news," said Monica, "Mr. Giles must be pleased with how you're doing."

"Er…well…not so sure about that. I think he figures I'm less likely to get into trouble if I'm surrounded by people instead of being on my own," said Spike sheepishly.

"And have you got some people in mind?" asked Monica, noting that he hadn't said friends.

"Um, there's Oz and I've had lunch with his friends a couple of times. Rupert likes Oz; he thinks he's a good influence."

"Oz is a very level headed boy," said Monica "So what do you think? Is he a good influence?"

Spike stared at her for a moment before ruefully admitting that he was.

"'Ave you spoken to Rupert this week?" asked Spike.

"No, I haven't. Why do you ask?"

"Thought he might 'ave talked to you about wot 'appened on Thursday night," said Spike.

Monica shook her head.

"I guess I'd better tell yer," said Spike and he went on to tell her the whole story.

"I do agree with Mr. Giles that you certainly have a knack of finding trouble," she said when he'd finished. "How are things between you and Angel?"

"Wot?" asked Spike, looking down to avoid her eyes.

"You know exactly what I mean, Spike. Do I have to spell it out?" She waited to give Spike a chance to talk before continuing when he stayed silent. "You were staring each other down in the corridor. Then you come in with a bruised hand and Angel misses a day of school. When he does turn up his face is a mess. Am I putting two and two together and making five? Or am I right?" said Monica firmly.

"You're right." mumbled Spike. He met her eye, "Please don't tell Rupert."

"Why didn't you tell me all about it? It seems a bit out of character for you to be fighting," she said.

"Wasn't really a fight. I only hit 'im once and James was right, the bigger they are the 'arder they fall," Spike replied.

"Who's James? I haven't heard you mention him before."

"_Crap!"_ "He's a guy I knew in England. He said he was bullied a bit then he hit the lad who was giving 'im trouble and that put an end to it. He...er...told…er…William about it when he said Angel was always on his back." He glanced at Monica.

"Oh," replied Monica.

It seemed plausible but by now she knew Spike's body language well enough to know that he wasn't being completely truthful with her.

"What provoked you to hit him?"

"It was 'im that set me up with the locker search. He'd put a bottle of vodka in it. If Oz hadn't taken it from me I would 'ave been expelled for sure. Just sort of saw red I suppose. I was sick of 'im causing me trouble and getting away with it," said Spike with a hard expression. "I know I shouldn't 'ave, okay?"

"At least you know that violence isn't the answer," said Monica.

"I said I shouldn't 'ave hit 'im, not that it wasn't the answer," replied Spike, "He's left me alone since then, hasn't he?"

Monica opened her mouth but before she could speak Spike continued.

"Look, I'm not planning on doing it again. Already 'ad the lecture off Oz, all right?"

Monica laughed, "In that case I definitely do agree that Oz is a good influence."

"Yer don't 'ave to mention this to Rupert, do yer?" asked Spike, blue eyes pleading as they met hers.

"No, Spike, I won't," replied Monica, "But I will if I hear that you've done anything like it again."

"Fair enough."

Ooooooo

Spike walked hesitantly into the cafeteria feeling very much 'William', not 'Spike.' He scanned the tables after he'd made his selections, eyes quickly settling on Buffy. She was on her own, the others having not arrived as yet. He walked over to her, glad she was alone so he didn't feel so much like he was intruding.

"Hey Buffy," he said as he sat opposite her.

"Hi Spike, how's freedom suiting you?" she grinned at him.

"_God, she really is beautiful."_ "Um…okay I guess, 'aven't seen much difference really so far," he said.

"At least you can come out of the library. If you had stayed in there any longer I think you would have started wearing tweed like Mr. Giles," joked Buffy.

Spike chuckled, "Can't see me ditching this for a tweedy jacket," he said, indicating his beloved duster.

"No," laughed Buffy, "Bleached hair and tweed – unmixey things, I think."

Xander and Willow arrived, followed shortly by Oz, who grabbed a quick bite then left again for rehearsals.

"So Spike, have you asked Mr. Giles about coming to The Bronze to see the Dingoes yet?" asked Xander.

"Um…no…not yet," said Spike, "But I will."

"You can ask tonight when I'm tutoring you," said Buffy, "That way Mr. Giles will know you're coming with us."

"Good idea," said Spike, thinking that Rupert was less likely to say no if Buffy was there.

"Has Oz told you how the rehearsals are going?" Xander asked Willow.

"Okay, I suppose. Devon still isn't happy about doing Oz's songs and Oz isn't happy about the way he's singing them. He hasn't said anything though. He's just hoping that Dev turns in a good performance on the night," she replied.

"It's such a shame things are like that between them. I love the Dingoes," said Buffy.

Ooooooo

"Hi Buffy," said Spike, smiling at her as she entered the library for the tutoring session. He was feeling more confident around her now and was hoping (or was that dreaming?) that the Dingoes concert might end up being a bit of a date like that last time.

She glared at him and threw her bag on to the table with unnecessary force.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she snapped.

"Tell yer wot?" asked Spike in confusion, _"Yep, dreamin'."_

"Don't fool with me, Spike."

"I 'aven't a clue wot yer talkin' about," replied Spike, _"Has she found out I'm really William? How the hell has she managed that?"_

"The dance," she shouted.

"Dance? Wot dance?" asked Spike, "I don't know anything about any dance. Do you mean seeing the Dingoes?"

"No, not the Dingoes, not the Dingoes," said Buffy in exasperation.

"Yer gonna 'ave to 'elp me out 'ere, pet," said Spike, tilting his head on one side and risking a smile.

"Stop doing that."

"Doin' wot?" asked Spike, _"Soddin' 'ell, wot's she going on about now?"_

"Going all cute and piling on the sexy English accent," she said, still glaring at him.

"Can't 'elp my accent," said Spike, _"Cute? Sexy? Did she really just say sexy?"_

"Yeah, but sometimes it's more noticeable than others, like now when you're trying to put me off asking you about Cordelia," said Buffy, actually stamping her foot in temper.

Now Spike really was confused. "Cordelia? I thought you wanted to know about the dance?"

"Aha! So you know about the dance now?" said Buffy triumphantly.

Spike stood up and took hold of Buffy, a hand on each arm.

"Stop."

It was a toss up as to who was more surprised at his firm tone – Buffy or Spike himself.

Buffy fell silent.

"Look Buffy, I'm not messing with you. I really don't 'ave any idea wot you're talking about. I'm not that fond of getting yelled at for something I don't even know about, okay? So why don't you just slowly and quietly tell me wot's bothering you so much?"

"_God, are his eyes always that blue? Boy, does he look hot when he's being all masterful."_

"Buffy?"

"Huh?" she shook her head, _"Where did those thoughts come from?"_ she refocused, "Um…why are you going to the Thanksgiving Dance with Cordelia?" _"And not me?"_

"The wot with Cordelia?"

"The dance! It's all over the school. Cordelia's told everybody. I'm sure you'll look lovely in your tuxedo and royal blue tie. It'll bring out the colour of your eyes," said Buffy.

"But…how? I've never said I'll go with her. I never even knew about the dance until you just told me," replied Spike. "Oh."

"Oh? What do you mean 'oh'?" asked Buffy.

"Um…this morning," said Spike, letting go of Buffy and taking a step back. "Oh no." he added quietly.

"So it is true then?" said Buffy, wondering why it hurt so much.

"I guess so," said Spike. He couldn't take it in. _"Oh my God, how did this happen? I'm going to a dance with the most popular girl in school."_

"Look, I'm not feeling so good," said Buffy, "I'm going to have to go home now. Sorry." She picked up her bag and rushed out of the door, tears glistening in her eyes.

Spike looked up as he heard the door slam shut, snapped out of his thoughts.

"Buffy?"

Rupert popped his head out of his office.

"Is everything alright? What was the shouting about?"

Spike tore his eyes from the door. "Buffy's not feeling well so she's gone home."

"You let her go? Why didn't you call me so I could give her a ride? She shouldn't be walking home if she's feeling ill," said Rupert.

Spike just gaped at him stupidly, his mind reeling. _"Buffy thinks I'm cute and was angry at me for going to the dance with Cordelia. Am I really going to a dance with Cordelia Chase? I don't want to – I want to take Buffy."_

"Spike!" said Rupert sharply.

"Huh?"

"Come along, let's go and find Buffy and take her home," said Rupert, striding out of the library.

"Okay," said Spike, gathering up his books, throwing them in his bag and running after him.

Ooooooo

They caught up with Buffy not far from the school. She was walking slowly along the street, head down, her hands plunged deeply into her jacket pockets.

"Buffy," called Spike as they stopped the car next to her.

She looked up.

"We're gonna give you a ride home. Okay?"

She nodded. Spike leapt out of the front seat and climbed into the back. Buffy got in and pulled the door shut.

"Sorry to hear you're feeling unwell," said Rupert. "I couldn't believe that Spike let you go without offering you a ride home."

"That's okay, Mr. Giles. I did kind of rush off," said Buffy quietly.

When they got to Buffy's house, Joyce insisted that Rupert and Spike come inside.

"I'm going up to my room, Mom," said Buffy and she disappeared up the stairs.

Spike sat at the kitchen table next to Rupert whilst Joyce busied herself with making the drinks. Spike had his usual hot chocolate, and she handed him another mug.

"Here, Spike, take this herbal tea to Buffy. It might help her to feel better," said Joyce, giving him directions to her room.

"Oh, okay," said Spike.

He walked quietly up the stairs and when he got to her bedroom door he gently tapped on it.

"Buffy, your mom's made you some tea."

The door swung open and Buffy stood in front of him. They stared at each other for a time before Buffy stepped aside and let him in. She sat on her bed as Spike handed her the mug of tea and pulled out the chair to her desk and sat on it.

Buffy smiled as she remembered how William had sat on his desk's chair when she'd been in his bedroom that time, rather than on the bed next to her.

"Are you…um…feeling better?"

"Spike, are you really that dumb?" said Buffy, shaking her head.

"So yer not sick then?" said Spike, "Just mad at me, yeah?"

Buffy nodded.

"But I 'aven't done anything, 'ave I?"

"The dance," said Buffy through gritted teeth.

"_Wow, it does look like Buffy really is jealous."_ He felt himself start to flush. "I never said I'd go with 'er. I hadn't even spoken to 'er 'til this mornin'. Then she just came up and told me to get a royal blue tie. I didn't know wot she meant – honest."

Buffy actually laughed - that was typical Cordelia. She just decided she wanted something and she got it.

"That's okay, Spike," she sighed, "I was just cross that I didn't know you were going with her before she came up and told me. I thought we were getting to be friends. I thought you would have told me first."

Spike looked at her. Why was everything so complicated all the time?

"When is this bleedin' dance anyway?"

"A week from Friday, the day before the Dingoes play," replied Buffy.

"Well, if I'd known when it was on I would have asked you," said Spike, quietly feeling his blush deepen and not meeting her eyes.

He stood up and restlessly walked round the room, looking at anything but Buffy. Taking in her boy band posters, stuffed animals and a collection of photos pinned to a board. His eyes lit on a postcard at the top right corner. His heart stopped, he was sure it did. It was the postcard he'd sent from London. He became aware that Buffy was talking to him.

"Wot? Sorry," he said, turning and looking at her properly.

"Um, it doesn't matter," she said, glancing over his shoulder at the postcard.

Spike turned back to stare at the card again. _"Why had she kept it?"_

"You got it then?" he croaked, not turning around.

"Yes, I got it," said Buffy, lost in her own memories of the day it had arrived - how she'd been so excited then so upset.

"Why didn't you call him?" His voice was low, "It really hurt him that you didn't."

"Take a look on the back."

Spike plucked the card from the board, dropping the pin holding it onto the floor in his haste. Hand trembling, he flipped it over. He was surprised at how neatly formed his handwriting had been. Post accident he hadn't really cared whether it was tidy or not. Then he saw the telephone number at the bottom. It was smudged, the last two digits completely illegible.

Spike turned to look at Buffy, a lump in his throat. She hadn't _not _called him – she hadn't been able to. Buffy was sitting looking up at him; tears streaming down her face. He wanted to go over to her and take her in his arms but his feet were rooted to the spot. She was crying for William.

"Did he hate me?"

Her voice was so quiet he didn't catch her words.

"Wot?"

"Did he hate me?" she said with a little more volume.

She stared up at Spike, eyes huge, and tears still falling. He thought his heart would break for her. She even looked pretty as she cried.

"_Oh Christ!"_ Spike just stared at her. By changing lives with James he'd hurt the one person he'd truly cared about.

"No one could ever 'ate you, Buffy."

He turned and fled the room, duster billowing behind him.

Ooooooo

Fortunately for Spike, Rupert was just preparing to leave as he got to the foot of the stairs.

"Is she feeling any better?" asked Joyce.

Spike cleared his throat, "Um…I don't think so," he muttered.

"Well, thanks for the drink, Joyce. I hope Buffy feels better soon. Goodnight," said Rupert.

"Goodnight, Rupert. Thanks again for bringing her home," replied Joyce.

As they drove home Rupert looked at Spike curiously a couple of times, wondering if he was okay. Spike resolutely looked out of the window all the way home but Rupert thought he saw him wipe his eyes.

To be continued……


	36. Chapter 36

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: I only own the plot!

Chapter Thirty-Six 

When Spike got to the school the next morning he went to find Cordelia. He needed to put a stop to this dance thing before it went any further. He found her surrounded as usual by her posse of vacuous friends.

"Um…Cordelia," said Spike, "Can I 'ave a word please?"

All the girls giggled as he spoke. He willed himself not to blush.

"Hi, Spike," said Cordelia, shrugging off her friends and walking towards him with a wide smile.

"Look…erm…I'm not coming to the dance with yer, okay? I never asked yer and I don't want to go with yer."

Her smile disappeared to be replaced with a furious scowl. She grabbed his arm, looking back making sure that none of her friends had heard him.

"Don't you dare do this to me," she hissed.

"Do wot? I never asked yer and yer didn't actually even ask me," said Spike. "I'm not being your date at the dance – no way."

"Yes you are."

"Sorry, pet, but I'm really not." He lifted her hand from his arm and started to walk away.

"You will be my date at the Thanksgiving Dance or I'll get you expelled," Cordelia snarled.

Spike halted and slowly turned around. He fixed her with a hard stare, tilting his head on one side.

"Wot did you just say?"

"If you don't agree to accompany me to the dance I will tell Principal Snyder that you got drunk and tried to…that you got fresh, more than fresh, with me. You'll be out before your feet can touch the ground."

"He wouldn't believe you," said Spike, taking a backwards step away from her, "You wouldn't do it."

"Are you sure you want to risk it?" said Cordelia with a smirk, "Who do you think he's going to believe? The most popular girl in school – captain of the cheerleaders? Or a misfit who's already been in trouble for drinking and stealing? Who's so stupid that he needs to be tutored, oh, and I nearly forgot, so screwed up he has to have counselling." She smiled prettily at him.

Spike felt the jaws of the trap snap shut around him. His shoulders slumped. He hung his head for a moment before lifting his eyes to meet hers. His vivid blue eyes were ice-cold.

"Okay," he sighed, "You win. I'll go to the bleedin' thing with you."

"Don't forget to get a royal blue tie," she said, smile back at full wattage.

"For God's sake," muttered Spike, shaking his head as he walked away, "Unbelievable, she's totally bloody unbelievable."

Ooooooo

He was still musing over his encounter with Cordelia when he saw Buffy and Willow walking down the corridor towards him.

"_Right, Spike, time to stop being a soddin' coward and talk to her properly. Christ, you've bloody 'it Angel, how 'ard can it be?"_

"Um…morning…er…Buffy," he stuttered, "Willow." _"Yeah, real eloquent."_

"Hey, Spike," said Buffy.

"Hi," said Willow.

"Look, Buffy, can I 'ave a word please?" he said with as much strength as he could muster.

She looked uncomfortable but nodded. "See you in class, Will."

Spike waited until Willow was out of earshot before he turned to her.

"Buffy, I've got a bit of a problem. It's something I can't do anything about, okay? But I need you to understand that I don't want to do it. That it doesn't mean a thing, not that you'll probably care whether it does or not."

Buffy looked at him. "Spike, the bell for class is going to go any second. Have you actually got a point to this story?" She softened her harsh words with a smile.

"Yeah, a point? Yeah it's…well…it's." He took hold of her hand, and when she didn't pull it away he continued, "Right, okay, here it is."_ "Come on, Spike, you soddin' chicken."_ "I've got to go to the dance with Cordelia. I can't get out of it. I wanted to but…to be 'onest she's blackmailing me. She said she'd get me in trouble with Snyder. I'm not sure why she is so desperate to go with me, though. Thing is, I really would 'ave liked to 'ave gone with you."

"You told me that last night-not the blackmail bit- but the 'I wanted to go with you' part."

"I did?"

"Yes, and I told you I would have loved to have gone with you," she replied.

Spike blinked. "You did? I didn't hear that."

She smiled and touched his face with the fingers of her free hand, tracing the scar around his left eye.

"You'll just have to make it up to me at The Bronze the next night."

They both started as the bell rang.

"I'd better go," said Buffy.

Spike kept hold of her hand. He had one more question to ask and it terrified him but he had to ask it.

"Do you wish it was William that you were going with, not me?"

Buffy stared deeply into his eyes. She missed William, she did, and the thought of him being hurt by her failure to call cut deep. But as she looked at the boy in front of her she realised she'd actually barely known William. She'd hoped she would have but in reality she hadn't.

"No, Spike," she said softly, "It's you I want to be with."

Spike's face split into a grin.

"Really?"

She pulled her hand away from his and walked away. "Yeah, really." She looked back at him smiling, "Now get to class."

"Wot? Oh class…yeah…right." Spike took a couple of steps to the left then remembered where his class was. He turned the other way and hurried off."

Ooooooo

At lunchtime Spike made his way to the library to find Rupert. He had a couple of things to ask him and since he seemed to be on a roll for speaking his mind he thought he'd get it over and done with.

"Rupert," he called as he swung the door open.

Rupert was standing at his counter talking to a student. Both turned to look at him. Spike stopped short when he saw them – it was Cordelia.

"Hi, Spike," she said, nearly blinding him with her smile.

"Um, hi." Spike walked towards them.

"I was just giving Mr. Giles the address of the best place in town to hire a tuxedo."

"Yer 'ave?" said Spike, _"What was this girl on?"_ "Um, but I 'aven't even asked if I can go yet. I mean I might not be allowed to." He looked at Rupert willing him to say no.

Rupert misread Spike's look totally. "It's alright, of course you can go. I wouldn't make you miss it especially as you have such a pretty date," he said gallantly.

"Oh, Mr. Giles, you're so sweet," trilled Cordelia. "Well, I must run. See you later, Spike, and don't forget the blue tie."

She rushed out of the library leaving a waft of her perfume behind her.

"Blue tie?" queried Rupert.

"Yeah, to match 'er dress and my eyes apparently," said Spike sullenly.

Rupert laughed.

"Rupert, I've got something to ask you," said Spike.

"I know – can I go to the Thanksgiving Dance please?" said Rupert, grinning at him.

"No, it's not that. It's…I wondered if I could go to see the Dingoes play?"

"When is that?"

"Um, the day after the dance. Look, I know yer didn't like me going out two nights in a row before – but I won't go out for two weeks after it, okay, and..." said Spike desperately.

"Spike!" interrupted Rupert.

He stopped talking.

"I'm going to let you go so you don't have to try to convince me, all right?"

"I can go? Really?" said Spike, his face lighting up. "That's great! The others will be pleased."

"Yes, you can go. Is Cordelia going with you too?"

"God, no!" said Spike with feeling.

"But if you're going to the dance with her, isn't she your girlfriend?"

"Girlfriend!" Spike nearly choked on the word. "No, she's soddin' well not my girlfriend."

"So why are you taking her to the dance then?"

"I'm not. She's taking me," replied Spike, "She asked me, okay? And I sort of can't get out of it."

"She must like you if she asked you," said Rupert with a chuckle.

"I don't think that comes into it. I think Cordelia wants to go with me 'cause I'm new, English and …er...'cause I've been in a bit of trouble. Gives me novelty value, I reckon."

"Oh, Spike, you really do have some odd ideas," laughed Rupert. "Do you not think she might simply be attracted to you?"

Spike shook his head adamantly. Whatever Cordelia was up to, being attracted to him certainly wasn't it.

"But you're a good looking boy, even with the hair," said Rupert, still chuckling.

"Wot's wrong with my 'air?" snapped Spike.

"Nothing, nothing at all," gasped Rupert.

"I'm going to the cafeteria," said Spike, turning on his heel and marching out.

"I'm sorry, Spike," added Rupert as the door slammed shut._ "Oh dear, I really shouldn't have laughed at him. The poor lad's embarrassed at being asked to the dance."_

To be continued….


	37. Chapter 37

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer! Only the plot is mine!

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Spike stared at himself in the mirror and tugged ill naturedly at his tie.

"Sod it," he growled and stalked out of his room.

"Rupert, I can't do this bleedin' thing."

Rupert smiled at the boy in front of him. He'd been stressing all evening. He couldn't believe why Spike seemed so nervous when he kept insisting it wasn't a proper date.

"_He must like Cordelia more than he realises if he's this strung out."_

"Here, let me do it." Rupert reached out to Spike and deftly tied the royal blue bow tie at his collar. "There you go. It really does bring out the colour of your eyes," he joked.

Spike glowered at him with the intensity only a teenager can muster.

"Oh, Spike, relax a little, for goodness sake."

"Huh! As if."

Spike went back into his room and once more stood in front of the mirror.

"Bloody hell, is that really me?" he asked his reflection.

He studied himself carefully. Hair bleached to perfection - not for tonight but for the next evening, when he was going to see The Dingoes with his friends. With Buffy. His heart skipped a beat at the thought. Give Cordelia her due, she had sent them to the best place in town for the hire of his tux. It fitted perfectly. He put on the jacket and fastened it. Reluctantly he did agree that the blue tie suited him. The last time he'd worn royal blue was the night he'd gone to The Bronze with Buffy before the trip to London.

"_Christ, William! Who would've thought you'd be going to a dance with a bloody cheerleader? Wot a joke."_

He heard a knock at the door and Rupert opening it.

"Okay, here goes. It's show-time," said Spike. He stuck his tongue out at his reflection, gave a big sigh and went to greet Cordelia.

When he saw her he had to admit that she did look amazing. The royal blue dress was full length with a slit to mid thigh. It skimmed her figure emphasising all the right places. Gold high-heeled sandals on her feet made her the same height as he. She was clutching a gold purse and he knew the diamonds at her throat and ears were real.

"Oh Spike, my, don't you look gorgeous," she cooed, and she enveloped him in a hug, kissing him on his cheek and leaving a slash of scarlet lipstick behind. "Look what a difference dressing properly makes, instead of all those old t-shirts and that dreadful leather coat."

"_Typical Cordelia. A compliment followed by a put down,"_ thought Spike.

"Um…thanks…er, so do you," he stuttered.

"Of course I do."

Rupert and Spike exchanged a glance at that remark.

"Shall we go then?" asked Spike, thinking the sooner he left the sooner he could get this freak show over with.

"Mr. Giles, will you please take a photograph of us?" asked Cordelia, handing him a tiny digital camera.

"Wot? We 'aven't got time. Don't want to be late." said Spike, trying to push her towards the door.

"Don't be silly, we have plenty of time." She pulled him to her and stood elegantly at his side.

"Smile, Spike," said Rupert.

Spike duly obliged and the pair went out to Cordelia's red, sporty car.

"_God, this is going to be a long night."_ For a moment he wished he could have had a vodka or two before he'd left the house. _"No, don't go there, Spike." _He cautioned himself, _"It won't be so bad."_

Ooooooo

It was worse.

He'd been in the school hall for fifteen minutes and it seemed like two hours. He'd lost count of the number of times he'd had to have his photograph taken with Cordelia and any number of her shallow friends. Their dates were all seemingly carbon copies of each other – all jocks. Which made Cordelia's decision to be with him all the more puzzling. His eyes restlessly scanned the room.

"Oh. My. God," Spike whispered.

Four people had just walked in but his eyes were on one to the extent that the entire room seemed empty of all but her – Buffy. But a Buffy he'd never seen before. He had never attended any of the school's dances and so had never seen her dressed so elegantly. If the blue of his tie brought out the colour of his eyes then the deep green of her dress made her eyes so striking he could see their brilliance from across the room.

He'd known she was coming with Xander, Willow and Oz, but they hadn't really talked about it. Neither was happy about the fact he was accompanying Cordelia. Their eyes met. Buffy giggled. Spike looked movie star handsome but for the fact his jaw was on the floor. Xander spotted the look on Spike's face and laughed.

"I think he's pretty impressed with how good you look, Buff."

Willow and Xander had slowly become aware of a change in Buffy and Spike's relationship over the past two weeks. They'd both correctly guessed that Spike was becoming smitten with Buffy but they weren't so sure about Buffy's feelings for him. She kept playing it pretty cool and they did think it was a little weird with him being William's cousin and all.

Oz, of course, was more than merely aware of Spike's crush. He'd had to listen to him moan about this Cordelia date for the past two weeks. Spike had refused to say why he couldn't get out of it though.

"Um…Cordelia, would yer like some punch?" asked Spike, seeing his friends heading towards it.

"That would be lovely, Spike. It is non-alcoholic so you can have some too," she replied to a chorus of laughter.

"Bitch," muttered Spike as he walked away.

He reached the table just as the others did. Close up Buffy looked even more stunning. Her golden blonde hair was loosely tied up, tendrils framing her face. He opened his mouth to speak but his tongue wouldn't cooperate, so he settled on just staring into her eyes and holding her gaze with an intensity he never had before. Put simply – he just couldn't look away.

Xander, who had been filling their cups with punch, spoke, breaking the moment.

"Hey Spike, you're looking especially cool tonight."

"Huh?" Spike reluctantly tore his eyes away from Buffy.

"Oh, nothing," said Xander, "Just complimenting you on how well you scrub up. I'm surprised you didn't put your duster on over the tux."

"Like that'd be a good look," grinned Spike.

"You don't know, it might have worked," joked Willow.

They all laughed.

"Hey, man, I think your date is waiting for you," said Oz, nodding his head in Cordelia's direction.

"It's not a bloody date," Spike replied through gritted teeth, as he turned to see Cordelia scowling at him.

"You'd better go," said Buffy softly. She was the only one who knew about the blackmail but she still didn't know exactly what it was.

"I don't want to," whispered Spike, then he took a deep breath, "You look fantastic." He leaned forwards and kissed her cheek before returning to Cordelia.

"Thank you," Buffy said to his back as he walked away, fingers straying to her cheek.

"Earth to Buffster," said Xander, handing her a cup of punch, "Come on, let's party!"

Ooooooo

It wasn't until he'd gotten back to Cordelia that Spike realised he'd returned without the drinks.

"_Oh crap."_

"Where's my drink?" snapped Cordelia.

"I…um…forgot it. I'll go back, sorry."

She caught his arm, "No, you stay here. Harm, go and get some drinks."

"Okay," said Harmony, taking her beefcake date with her.

Spike was standing watching Buffy on the dance floor with Xander.

"Spike," said Cordelia sharply.

He turned to look at her. "Wot?" he said grumpily.

"Don't you forget our deal."

"I 'aven't. I'm 'ere, aren't I? You won."

"Well, the deal will be off and I will go to Snyder if you don't start paying me more attention. You're here with me, Spike – make it look like you are and that you're happy to be my date. Hell, you should be grateful you are!"

"I'm not that good an actor," he replied.

"Trust me when I say that I am, Spike. Perhaps I'll bypass Snyder and go straight to the cops," hissed Cordelia.

Spike took a step back. "Christ, you're twisted," he muttered, "Why do you want me here so badly? Half the school would have willingly come with you."

"That's why." She pointed to the far corner of the room.

Spike looked across. "Shit," he whispered. Standing there in the corner were Angel and Davey. Both were glowering furiously at him.

"Wot are yer bleedin' playing at?" said Spike, putting a hand none too gently on her arm.

"Angel was my original date. It had been planned for ages but there's no way that I'd be seen dead with him after a weirdo like you got the better of him. I do have a certain image to keep up. I don't date losers."

"So why am I here then? If I'm such a weirdo?"

"Because it'll piss him off, of course." Cordelia treated him to a full wattage smile, and then planted a firm kiss on his mouth, putting her arms around him as she did.

Spike went rigid and tried to pull away.

"Officer, Spike Norman tried to rape me," she whispered in his ear. "You'd better turn in an Oscar winning performance tonight, Spike."

"_God, this girl is a psycho."_

He knew there was nothing he could do. He knew whose story they'd believe.

"_You can do it, Spike. It's just one evening."_

So he put his arms around her, lifted her off her feet and swung her around. She giggled in delight. He put her back on her feet and planted a kiss on her cheek as he looked over at Angel. Angel's scowl deepened and Spike winked at him. Perhaps the evening wouldn't be a dead loss after all. It was a nice role reversal to see Angel skulking in a corner and him as the centre of attention.

What he didn't see was Buffy's reaction to their kiss and subsequent twirl.

"_Doesn't look too unhappy about it now."_

She moved so she had her back to them and tried to keep the smile on her face as she danced.

Ooooooo

Spike was worried; it was almost time to go home and he was desperate not to be alone with Cordelia. He wasn't sure that he trusted her not to use her threat against him even though he had played the dutiful date to the best of his abilities. The thought of her driving him home – just the two of them – terrified him.

"You pig!" Harmony's voice rang out, shrilly followed by the sound of a slap.

Spike turned to see her date, Riley, holding his face and staring at her.

"What did I do?" he cried.

"Wandering hands. I'm not that kind of a girl," she replied, folding her arms across her chest.

"But you didn't mind in the corridor just now," protested Riley.

Spike saw his opportunity. He stepped between them and put a hand on Riley's chest.

"Back off, mate. I think Harmony would prefer it if you just left, okay?"

Riley glared down at Spike. He towered over him.

"_Christ! 'Ow do these guys get so soddin' big?"_

Spike returned his stare and pushed with his hand.

"Go 'ome mate."

"_Trust me, I'm doing you a favour,"_ he added to himself. If Harm was anything like Cordelia he wouldn't want to be the one to drive her home after this.

"She can come with us, can't she Cordy? We'll make she's home okay?" he looked at Cordelia.

For a second something unreadable flickered across her face then she smiled, "Of course, you must come with us, Harm."

Spike looked back at Riley and nodded briefly. Riley glanced over to Harmony, who'd theatrically burst into tears then shrugged and walked away. Spike relaxed.

"Thank God," 

It hadn't been easy to stand up to Riley who was easily as big as Angel, plus when he took on Angel he'd been all fired up and angry.

"Come on, Cordelia, it's time we were going too, don't yer think?"

"Okay. Don't worry about Riley, Harm, let's just go home."

To Spike's relief, since Harmony lived nearer to Cordelia than he did, he was dropped off at his home first. Before he got out of the car he kissed Cordelia's cheek.

"Thanks, Cordelia, it's been…well…it's been an experience."

She laughed at him as he got out of the car.

"You know, Spike, you're not so bad, are you?" and she sped away as soon as he shut the door.

He watched the car for a moment before walking to the apartment shaking his head.

"_Christ, my life lately. If I wrote a book about it no one would believe me."_

Ooooooo

Rupert was still up when he got inside - not too surprising as it was before his ten thirty curfew.

"Did you have an enjoyable time?"

"Was okay," said Spike, "I'm going to go to bed if yer don't mind?"

"That's fine, goodnight."

"'Night."

Once Spike was in bed his thoughts turned to Buffy. He hadn't seen much of her once he'd had to focus on Cordelia. He hadn't tried to seek her out, knowing that if he kept seeing Buffy he wouldn't have been able to keep up his act with Cordelia.

To be continued……


	38. Chapter 38

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: I own only the plot. 

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Spike was up early. He'd had trouble sleeping, as today was the day he'd been looking forward to for so long. By the time Rupert had risen from his bed, Spike had tidied the whole apartment, apart from Rupert's bedroom, and had gotten breakfast ready. Rupert was relieved to see that it just consisted of putting cereal and toast on the table. The apartment had smelt of burnt bacon for ages after the last time.

"Morning, Spike. Is there something I should be worried about?" he asked.

"Mornin'. No, nothin', why?"

Rupert swept an arm out, "All this. Are you sure you're not trying to butter me up?" he smiled.

"Won't do it again if that's all the thanks I get for it," said Spike with a grin, handing him his cup of tea, "so make the most of it."

They were just clearing the breakfast plates away when the telephone rang. Rupert answered it.

"Hello?"

"Oh hello, Joyce, how are you?"

Spike pricked up his ears - Buffy's mom – he prayed she wasn't calling because Buffy was ill or wanted to bail.

"Oh, yes, I understand. It certainly makes sense. I'll let him know. Thanks, Joyce. 'Bye."

Rupert put the phone down and turned to see Spike looking at him anxiously.

"It's okay, relax," he said, knowing exactly what was worrying Spike, "Joyce just suggested that you can stay over at their house tonight if you'd like to. She's making up the guest room for you."

Spike was dumbstruck.

"What's the matter? Don't you want to stay there?" asked Rupert. _"I'll never figure this boy out. Perhaps he likes Cordelia after spending the evening with her yesterday?"_

"Um…no…that's great. Stay over at Buffy's. Yeah, that's cool," stuttered Spike.

"I can always call back?"

"No!"

Rupert smiled, _"So, the crush is still aimed at Buffy."_ "Joyce just thought it would save you having to wait for a ride home with Oz as he will have the equipment to clear. She knows you have a ten thirty curfew and she's happy for Buffy to be in at that time also."

"Okay," said Spike. He had hoped the curfew might have been lifted, _"No worries, only a couple more weeks until the month is up."_

Ooooooo

Spike stared at himself in the mirror.

"Sod it!" he growled and he tugged the t-shirt back over his head.

He threw it onto the bed where it joined a pile already tried on and discarded. The only problem was there were no more shirts left in his closet.

"Spike! Are you nearly ready?" called Rupert, "You're going to be late."

"Yeah, stop hassling me. I know what soddin' time it is," snapped Spike.

Rupert had to bite his lip to stop from laughing out loud. _"Oh yes, Spike has got it bad."_

He'd been in his room for ages, after having the longest shower humanly possible, and he'd still to walk out of it. And this was from a boy who was normally dressed in five minutes flat. He hadn't even taken as long as this the night before.

Spike stared at the bed in desperation. He closed his eyes, rummaged through the pile with one hand and grabbed a shirt. He opened his eyes and looked at it.

"That'll do," he muttered, putting it on. It was the Kaiser Chiefs t-shirt that he'd worn to the Karaoke in London. "Oh, I dunno."

It was sleeveless and he remembered how Buffy had been less than impressed by his tattoo when she's seen him at the Bronze on the first night he'd gotten wasted with Angel. He was about to pull it off again when Rupert shouted to him.

"For goodness sake, Spike, come out of your room. I'd better give you a ride over there now, you haven't got time to walk."

Spike glanced at his watch. "Shit." He looked at himself as he flung on his duster, shrugging his shoulders to settle it in position. _"James, mate, you were right – this jacket is way cool."_

He picked up the bag with his overnight things in it and went to find Rupert, who got up from where he was sitting as he saw him.

"Are you sure you're ready? Do you need a little longer?" he joked.

"Ha bloody ha."

Rupert put his arm around Spike's shoulder. "Come on then, let's go."

Ooooooo

Soon they were sitting in the lounge of Buffy's house waiting for her to appear from upstairs.

"I'm sure she'll be down soon, Spike. Her timing's always a little out of synch with the rest of us," said Joyce.

"Yeah, you need to add on a half hour," said Spike, adding, "Xander told me" when he saw her quizzical look.

He was regretting declining a hot drink; it would have given him something to do with his hands. As it was, he fiddled with the strap on his wristwatch. His head whipped up as he heard Buffy come down the stairs. She was wearing her hair up in a similar style to the previous evening but instead of the long formal dress, she had on a knee length dark blue suede skirt with a white and pale blue blouse.

"Hey," she said a little shyly as he stared at her intensely.

"Hey," he replied, rapidly losing the power of speech where Buffy was concerned.

"Shall we go?"

"Yeah," said Spike, standing up.

"Do you want a ride over there? I don't mind," offered Rupert.

"No!" they said in unison.

They looked at each other and laughed.

"Thanks Rupert," said Spike, "but we're okay walking."

"Have a good time and don't forget Spike's curfew," called Joyce as they left.

"We won't, Mom. See you later," replied Buffy.

Ooooooo

They walked along in an uncomfortable silence for a while. They were meeting the others at The Bronze as Xander had offered to help the Dingoes with their gear. Willow and Oz were rapidly becoming inseparable.

"Buffy," said Spike seriously.

She looked at him, eyes wide, the tone of his voice making her worry about what he was going to say.

"Yes?"

"Um…you looked…beautiful last night…er…not that you don't look great tonight…I mean you always look great…" suddenly Spike was wishing he had actually lost the power of speech after babbling like that. He blushed furiously. _"Shit!"_ "Um…wot I mean is…well…I'm sorry that I wasn't with you last night too, okay?"

Buffy's worries that he'd actually really enjoyed his date with Cordelia faded slightly.

"You looked like you were having a good time."

He put his head down and stared at his feet as they walked along.

"She upped the stakes of the deal. She told me she'd…um…cause me trouble if I didn't act like I wanted to be with her." _"God, that sounds lame even to me!"_

"It's okay," said Buffy, still not sounding totally convinced.

"No, it's not," he said, stopping and taking hold of her hand. He gazed into her eyes, "It's you that I wanted to go with, only you. It's always been you, okay? God, how could I want to go with anyone else? You're perfect."

"Wow," said Buffy slowly, "perfect, huh?"

He grinned, "Well apart from…"

"Don't you dare!" she interrupted.

"…always interrupting and …"

She thumped his arm.

"…being violent, then yes, perfect."

He reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from her face. He moved a little closer, and then he chickened out.

"Um, come on, we don't want to be late," he said, giving her hand a little tug.

Buffy let out a breath she didn't even realise she was holding.

"_God, I so thought that he was going to kiss me then."_

They walked along in a now very companionable silence, Spike keeping hold of her hand.

Ooooooo

They spotted Willow as soon as they walked into the Bronze. The fact she was wearing a bright yellow fluffy sweater and brown jeans made her actually impossible to miss.

"God, I hope Oz hasn't dyed his hair to match," said Spike, recalling how it had been dyed red to match Willow's skirt when he'd seen the Dingoes play last time.

"He does have a habit of doing that, but I think even he'd shy away from yellow," giggled Buffy; "At least you stick to the same colour all the time."

Spike self-consciously ran a hand through his hair.

"Yeah, boring, that's me."

"I can't believe that we've got boyfriends who do more hair care than we do," said Buffy.

"Boyfriends?" asked Spike, his eyebrows nearly disappearing as they went so high.

"_Oh no, did I really say that aloud?"_ thought Buffy, "Er, well you're boys and our friends and …"

"Do you want me to be?" asked Spike, having gotten his eyebrows back under control.

"What?"

"Your…um…boyfriend?"

Buffy looked up at him and slowly nodded. Spike leaned in close to her and this time he didn't chicken out. He put his hand on her shoulder; she could feel it trembling slightly, and very gently kissed her lips.

to be continued...


	39. Chapter 39

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: only the plot is my own!

The song lyrics are from the mighty Foo Fighters track 'Come Alive.'

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Buffy closed her eyes at the touch of Spike's mouth on hers, she moved towards him wanting to deepen the kiss but as her tongue touched his lips he pulled away. She opened her eyes and saw two vivid blue eyes looking at her anxiously.

"Um…we'd better find Willow and Xander," he said quickly to cover his embarrassment.

"Okay," said Buffy, _"didn't he like kissing me?"_

Then she thought she knew what was wrong. _"Oh my God, was that his first kiss? No wonder me trying to stick my tongue down his throat made him back off. He'll think I'm a big ho',"_ she thought in despair.

She reached for his hand and was rewarded with a broad smile as her small hand found his. He gripped it tightly.

"_Phew! He still likes me."_

Spike's mind was racing.

"_Why did you stop, you idiot? She obviously wanted it."_

But he couldn't help it. As they were kissing someone pushed their way past. At the touch of the other person, reality came back with a crash. His natural shyness kicked in as he suddenly realised there he was, in the middle of The Bronze, kissing Buffy Summers – the girl of his dreams.

"Look, there's Xander," said Buffy, pointing to a table near the front. They made their way over to him through the crowds, sitting in the seats he'd saved for them.

"Perks of helping the band," he grinned, "Managed to get a good table in return."

He noticed that Spike and Buffy were holding hands and winked at Spike, causing him to blush and look down, but he didn't let go of her hand.

"Where's Willow gone?" asked Buffy.

"She's backstage smooching with Oz," replied Xander, _"Huh! Everybody's getting paired off except me."_

"So wot time are the Dingoes on stage?" asked Spike, once he felt the heat leave his face.

"In about a half hour, I think. Devon hadn't arrived until about ten minutes ago, the rest of the band were going frantic."

"I'll bet!" said Buffy.

"At least he's here now," said Xander.

"I'm looking forward to seeing them ag…er…play," said Spike, only just correcting himself in time.

"You'll love them," said Xander, "Oz always says they're useless but they're not."

"Yeah, I know most of the songs they play. Oz runs through them sometimes, but mostly I get him to play his own. They're really good. I don't know why Devon has such a problem with them," said Spike animatedly.

"I know why he does," said Buffy, "He's jealous. Sure he can sing but he could never write a song of his own."

"Look, Willow's coming back," said Xander, "They must be getting ready to go on."

"Hi guys," said Willow as she sat between Xander and Spike.

"How are things backstage?" asked Xander.

"Pretty tense but at least Devon showed," replied Willow.

A few minutes later, to a loud cheer, Dingoes Ate My Baby came onstage. Willow squealed in delight as Oz appeared with his bass guitar. Devon swaggered up to the microphone at the front of the stage. He screamed 'hello' and then introduced the first song.

After six songs it became clear to the friends that all was not going according to plan. When Devon announced what song was next the other band members were looking at each other and shaking their heads.

"What's going on?" asked Buffy.

"He's not sticking to the set list," explained Willow, who knew it by heart, "They should have played one of Oz's songs by now."

Then abruptly at the end of the current song Devon just walked off the stage. Oz looked at his fellow band members in panic then walked to the mic and announced that there would be a short break and then they'd be back. They all left the stage.

Willow went to see what was going on. She came back moments later.

"Spike, can you go and see Oz? He's in a bit of a state and is asking for you."

"Okay. Poor Oz. Devon's a right git if he lets him down," said Spike before he went to find Oz.

As soon as he got backstage Oz grabbed him by his arm and pulled him into a corner; the normally laid back boy looked frantic.

"Devon's gone!"

"Wot? Gone? As in left altogether?" asked Spike stupidly.

"Yeah, he said he wasn't singing any of my songs and that was it – he's left the band."

"Christ, he picked his moment, didn't he?"

"He's done it on purpose. The thing is, the band played here in the summer vacation and he did the same then. It's taken me this long to get them to give us another chance. If we don't complete our set the band is as good as finished," wailed Oz.

"Why don't you sing, Oz? They're your songs and you know you can sing," urged Spike, hating to see his friend so stressed.

"I can't, Spike. Sure, I'm not too bad at singing along when I write them." He looked Spike right in the eyes. "But I haven't got a voice anywhere near as good as you have."

"Oh no, no, Oz, don't do this to me," said Spike backing away, "I can't, yer know I can't."

"But you know all the songs and you sang in England."

"Once, I sang once, Oz, and I had to be wasted to get up at all. I'm sorry but I just can't, okay?" replied Spike, vehemently shaking his head.

"We're through if you don't, Spike. I'm begging you," Oz pleaded.

_"Oh Christ, I'm going to lose the best friend I've ever had but I bloody can't do it."_

Just then Joey, the drummer, walked by with a glass in each hand; Spike looked at Oz then back at the two glasses.

"Um…Joey, what drinks 'ave yer got there?" asked Spike.

"Jack Daniels. The barman took pity on me and let me have them," replied Joey.

"Shit!" said Spike. He grabbed the glasses out of Joey's hands and downed the first in one gulp.

"Spike! What are you doing?" cried Oz.

"Look, if yer want me to sing I need a bit of 'elp first." He grimaced as he drank the second. "Thanks, Joey."

"'S okay," replied a somewhat surprised Joey, "So you're going to take the lead spot?"

"Looks that way," said Spike.

"Oh man! Thanks!" screamed Oz, throwing his arms around Spike and hugging him in a totally un-Oz-like manner, "You're the best."

"Yeah, yeah," said Spike in embarrassment.

"But you shouldn't have drunk that liquor."

"Not planning on making a habit of it again if that's wot yer mean. Just couldn't do it in cold blood, okay?"

"So when are we going back on? I need to tell Pete," said Joey, referring to the lead guitarist.

"Fifteen minutes?" said Oz, raising an eyebrow at Spike.

Spike nodded. _"Wot the hell 'ave I agreed to?"_ His heart was beating fit to burst.

"Come on, I'll go over the set list with you," said Oz, "We'll start off with a cover of Born in the USA…"

"Wot?" interrupted Spike.

"Born in the USA," repeated Oz, "It'll get the crowd back on our side and I know you know it, then we'll do my five songs and…"

"Hang on a minute, Oz, don't get too carried away. That's enough, isn't it?" said Spike, who was feeling almost sick with nerves despite the – he had to admit – pleasant feeling of the alcohol getting into his bloodstream.

"Oh, okay, we'll just play it by ear," said Oz.

Ooooooo

There was a cheer as Pete and Joey walked back onto the stage.

"Sorry about the break, folks, but we're back and we're gonna make sure you all have a great time," said Joey.

"Oh no, where's Spike? He's going to miss it," said Buffy, looking around for him.

"Um…Buff," said Xander, "I don't think he is going to miss it." He pointed to the stage.

Oz and Spike had joined Pete and Joey.

"Our usual lead singer is…er…ill, so we've got another guy to help us out. I hope you show him your appreciation, he's got a great voice. It's Spike Norman!" continued Joey.

"Oh my God!" cried Willow and Buffy in unison, as a rather pale Spike stepped to the front of the stage.

The crowd obediently gave a bit of a cheer, albeit a half hearted one. Devon had always been the lead singer and it was his voice they'd come to hear. They weren't convinced they were going to like the sound of a new singer, especially one that was visibly shaking.

Spike took the microphone from Joey.

"Um…thanks," he muttered barely audibly even with the mic.

He glanced back at Oz who grinned at him. Spike nodded and Oz counted them in for the first song.

Spike closed his eyes and smiled at the thought that he was wearing the same clothes as when he'd sung at the karaoke. In his mind he could see James and Rich grinning up at him.

"_This is for you, James."_

He opened his eyes as he began to sing. He didn't focus on the crowd, just looked towards the back wall. Still, he almost faltered – the place was full – but he concentrated hard and gave it his all.

Unlike at the karaoke there wasn't a pause when he sang the last line; the place erupted in rapturous applause. Spike looked at the crowd properly for the first time and a broad grin split his face. He glanced at Oz who was also grinning like an idiot. Joey gave him a thumbs up and Pete mouthed 'well done'.

Spike suddenly wondered why he'd thought he'd needed a drink before doing this – the applause was intoxicating enough. It was hot under the spotlights and so after another song he took off his duster and put it at the side of the stage. A few girls cheered when he did, appreciating the tight fitting t-shirt and lean muscular arms. He looked every inch the rock star with his bleached locks and tattoo. He blushed a bit and for the first time dared to look at Buffy; she smiled up at him and mouthed 'wow', he winked at her.

After several more songs, all of which were written by Oz and all had been well received, Oz nipped off stage to swap guitars. When he came back on he handed Spike another drink which he took gratefully; it was water. He watched as Oz had a quick word with Pete and Joey. Spike was just wondering why Oz had gotten his acoustic guitar – the Dingoes always stuck to electric – when he started to play the intro of the next song. Spike froze - he glared at Oz and shook his head. Oz walked up to him, pushed him gently away from the mic and spoke into it himself.

"This is a song that our new lead singer Spike wrote. It's the first time it's going to be played in public. I hope you like it."

"I'm gonna kill yer for this," muttered Spike as Oz walked away from the microphone.

Spike put both hands on the mic and leant on the stand; again he looked off rather than down at the crowd. He took a deep breath.

"Seems like only yesterday

Life belonged to runaways.

Nothing here to see no looking back.

Every sound monotone,

Every colour monochrome,

Life began to fade into the black."

He looked at Buffy. She was staring at him. Their eyes met and he sang the song to her.

"Such a simple animal,

Sterilised with alcohol.

I can hardly feel me anymore.

Desperate meaningless,

All filled up with emptiness,

Felt like everything was said and done.

I lay there in the dark and I close my eyes,

You saved me the day you came alive…."

Buffy felt a tear prick at her eye as she listened to the lyrics. She remembered him telling her of how he'd tried to run away. The whole school knew of his drinking and there he was singing a song that, although beautiful, told everyone of his pain.

She quickly scanned the club and saw that the whole place was transfixed - mesmerised by his haunting voice. Spike was full of contradictions, she wasn't sure she'd ever work him out though she knew she wanted the opportunity to try to. He was painfully shy at times yet here he was singing on stage to a packed house. He took on Angel – she still couldn't believe he'd done that – yet blushed at just about everything.

"_Huh! Talk of the devil."_

She noticed Angel; he was several yards away and was scowling at Spike. Davey and Riley were with him and they didn't look very happy either.

Buffy glanced back at Spike. His song was drawing to a close, and he held her gaze to the end.

The place went wild! Oz slapped Spike on his back. Pete and Joey, who hadn't accompanied the song because they didn't know it, enveloped him in a bear hug.

Spike turned back to the mic, "Um…thanks," he stuttered, "Glad yer liked it but all I did was write the words – the melody is all down to Oz."

Oz grinned as the crowd renewed their cheers. Pete grabbed the mic.

"We're Dingoes Ate My Baby – see you all again soon – goodnight!"

to be continued….


	40. Chapter 40

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: none of it's mine apart from the plot!

Chapter Forty

"Oh man! You were awesome," said Oz as the four of them came off the stage.

Spike was about to deny it when he listened some more to the cheers still ringing out in the club and instead agreed with Oz.

"I was pretty good, wasn't I?" he grinned.

"I'm glad that Devon walked out," said Pete, "You're a way better singer than he is. You had them eating out of your hands! Can't wait for the next gig."

"No, Pete, you're forgetting that this was a once only deal, right Spike?" said Oz seriously.

"_Crap! Why did I have to say that?"_ Spike's face fell, "Um, yeah, I did say that."

"I'm only joking!" laughed Oz, "How can we not get you to do it again after that?"

Spike punched Oz on his arm. "Hey, yer git, I just bailed you out and you're riding me - not fair."

"Come on, let's go and find the others," said Oz, "We'll pack the gear away later."

As they got into the public area of the club they were jostled by lots of people congratulating them on a great set, telling them how they'd really enjoyed it. Spike blushed bright crimson and kept his head down, just muttering his thanks; his shyness once again kicking in now he was off the stage.

Suddenly he was engulfed in a hug, and a kiss was firmly planted on his cheek. He didn't need to see who it was, her perfume gave her away. He pulled out of her arms.

"Cordelia."

"Spike! I never knew you were so cool. That was fantastic," she gushed, putting her arm around him.

Once again he disentangled himself from her.

"Thanks, but I'm here with Buffy, okay?" he said as firmly as he could.

Her smile didn't dim at all, "I know that, silly. I just wanted to let you know that I enjoyed your singing," she said, _"and wind Angel up some more."_ She'd noticed him glaring at Spike all night.

"Oh? And do yer always pounce on people and kiss them when you've enjoyed something then? 'Ow about jumping on Oz, Joey or Pete?"

Cordelia giggled, "Aren't you going to introduce me to your friends?" she asked as they'd arrived at the table.

Spike thought this was a bit odd since everybody knew each other already.

"Um, okay," he glanced at the others. Buffy wasn't looking very happy and he could understand why, "er…Cordelia, this is Oz and his girlfriend Willow, that's Xander and," he walked to stand behind Buffy, putting his arms around her waist and dropping a kiss on her neck, "this is my girlfriend Buffy."

Everyone except Cordelia stared at Spike. He glanced at Buffy, hoping she'd meant it when she'd said she wanted him to be her boyfriend. She smiled at him and stood up to kiss him, not on the cheek as Cordelia had but on his lips.

This time Spike didn't pull away. He kissed her back, all at once not caring that not only were they in a crowded club but also in front of their rather bemused friends. His heart was pounding when they finally parted. When they turned back to face the others Spike blushed again as they were all still staring.

"So you two are together then?" said Xander with a wink.

Everyone laughed.

"Um…looks that way," said Spike, meeting Buffy's eyes, still unable to truly believe it.

"We are," confirmed Buffy.

"Cool," said Oz, delighted that his friends had gotten together.

Xander glanced at Cordelia and thought _'what the hell'_.

"So, Cordelia, would you like to dance?"

She looked at him for a moment and then, to his utter astonishment, she agreed. He led her away to the dance floor as the DJ started to play some slow songs to end the night with.

His friends watched them walk away with their mouths open. This was turning out to be quite a night of revelations. Spike slightly narrowed his eyes as he remembered Cordelia's threat to him and hoped she wouldn't do anything like that with Xander. He thought of going to warn him when he realised that Oz was speaking to him.

"Hey, Spike, look at the time. You're going to be late for your curfew if you don't leave now."

"Shit. I was going to help you with your gear since I…um…was sort of in the band," said Spike.

"There's no 'sort of' about it – you are in the band," replied Oz, "Anyway, Xander said he'd help with it in return for a ride home."

"That's okay then. Just do me a favour - whatever Xander says, make sure you bring him home. Don't let Cordelia drive him."

"Why not?"

"It's a long story but just promise me, okay? I'll explain another time," said Spike.

"Okay, will do."

Spike nodded his thanks and turned to Buffy.

"Look, I'm sorry, pet, but we better get going. Don't want to be late."

"Okay, see you later guys!" said Buffy. She put her hand in Spike's and started to walk to the exit, "Did you just call me pet?" she teased.

Spike looked embarrassed. "Um…yeah…is that okay?"

"I guess so," she grinned.

Ooooooo

They walked home slowly, hand in hand, stopping frequently to kiss. Each one was getting a little deeper, a little more passionate, as Spike was getting more confident. It was just after ten-forty when they got in.

"Hi, Mom, sorry we're a bit late," called Buffy as they walked through the door.

"That's okay, honey. Did you have a good time?"

"Yeah, it was great. Spike sang. You should have heard him, Mom, he was amazing!" said Buffy.

Joyce walked into the hallway, smiling as she saw that Spike had blushed to the roots of his white hair.

"I thought you were seeing the Dingoes?"

"We were, but halfway through Devon walked off stage and the next thing we knew Spike was up there taking his place," said Buffy enthusiastically.

"Did you enjoy singing with the band, Spike?" asked Joyce, wondering how he had ever had the nerve to do it.

"Um…yeah…it was great once I got up there and started to sing. I was terrified before, though. But I 'ad to help Oz out, he's been a good mate," replied Spike, finally meeting her eye.

"He even sang a song that he'd written himself, Mom," said Buffy with pride.

Joyce hadn't thought that Spike could have looked any more uncomfortable but he somehow managed it.

"That is so clever. It's a real talent that you must have," she said to him.

"I only wrote the words, Oz put the melody to it," replied Spike.

"Oh, stop with the modesty!" cried Buffy, giving him a friendly push, "You were great, the song was great – just admit it!"

"Buffy, you're embarrassing the poor boy," smiled Joyce, "Shall I fix you both some hot chocolate? I've got marshmallows."

"That'd be really nice. Thanks, Mrs. Summers," said Spike, smiling shyly at her.

Ooooooo

Buffy showed Spike where he'd be sleeping and he pulled out the things he'd packed in his bag. He laid the jeans and t-shirt on a chair ready for the morning and put a pair of pyjamas on the bottom of the bed. He and Buffy sneaked another kiss before she showed him where the bathroom was.

"Well, I guess I'll see you in the morning," she said, giving him a final kiss as they stood on the landing.

"You will," replied Spike, "I really enjoyed tonight, Buffy, but I feel I missed out on being with you a bit, wot with the singing an' all."

"I was very proud of you up there, and I liked you saying that you are my boyfriend," smiled Buffy.

"I want to take you out somewhere though, just the two of us," said Spike, looking at her in such a way that she thought she'd melt.

"Just say when."

They jumped apart guiltily as they heard Joyce's step on the stairs.

"'Night then," said Spike.

"Goodnight."

Ooooooo

Spike couldn't sleep; he was all buzzed up, both from the concert and the close proximity of Buffy. He couldn't believe that Buffy was officially his girlfriend. He tossed and turned under the covers. He was too hot so he got up and opened the window, enjoying the cool breeze on his naked body. He'd only brought the pyjamas to use for going to the bathroom and such. Ever since he'd been stuck in a stuffy hospital ward for three weeks he couldn't bear being too hot when he slept and so never used them in bed. When he eventually got to sleep his dreams were full of Buffy.

Ooooooo

Buffy was up early. She hadn't slept very well and as soon as it was light she gave up and got out of bed. She had a shower and washed her hair. When she was dry she looked at the clothes in her closet trying to decide what to wear. The top she wanted wasn't there. With a sigh she remembered that she had left it in the guest room, which is where they normally did the ironing.

She put her 'yummy sushi' pyjamas back on, tiptoed onto the landing and listened at Spike's door. There was no sound so she thought she'd risk sneaking in to get it. She opened the door silently and walked in. The blouse was hanging with several others on the door of the closet at the foot of the bed. Buffy glanced at Spike to check that he was still sleeping and gasped. He was certainly still asleep but he was also totally naked and laid flat on his back with the sheets only covering his feet.

He stirred in his sleep, whether as a response to the noise she'd made or not, Buffy wasn't sure. She froze.

"Buffy," whispered Spike.

"_Oh my God!" _thought Buffy,_ "He's thinking of me! Well, that explains the…um…er…what's going on…er…with his…"_

She tore her eyes away from his obvious arousal and reached out to grab the blouse. She fumbled and although she got hold of the blouse she wanted, the others fell to the floor with a clatter. Buffy fled.

"Huh?" mumbled Spike, waking up.

He peered around the room and didn't notice anything amiss. So he leaned down and pulled the bed sheets up until they covered him up to his waist, turned over and went back to sleep.

Buffy leaned on her bedroom door as she closed it and breathed a sigh of relief.

"_Okay, so not the best idea I've ever had. Thank God he didn't wake up and see me. What was I thinking? But how was I to know he'd be naked? And his body – wow!"_

She went and flopped down on to her bed, blouse temporarily forgotten. She'd never seen a boy completely naked before and especially not when what they kept in their pants was awake! She blushed at the memory, but she knew all she really wanted to do was go back and have another peek!

"_Bad thoughts, Buffy!"_

Ooooooo

Spike woke when her heard someone go downstairs. He got out of bed and stretched, smiling as he thought of his dream. He looked down at his erection.

"_Yep, that was some dream, Spike."_

He went to get his pyjamas so he could go to the bathroom. He hoped they wouldn't mind if he took a shower, as something needed attention before he'd dare go downstairs.

His pyjamas had fallen from the bed with all the wriggling he'd done before he'd gotten to sleep. As he got them he noticed a pile of blouses and t-shirts on the floor. They were all on hangers so he picked them up and hung them on the handle of the closet door, idly wondering how they had come to fall down. Grabbing his sponge bag he opened the door and almost immediately bumped into Buffy.

"Mornin'," he said, glad the top of his pyjamas was pretty long as the sight of her caused a new thrill to go through him.

"Morning, Spike," replied Buffy, blushing bright red.

"Is it okay if I take a shower?"

"Yeah, shower, no problem," said Buffy, looking into his room; "I'll just…oh!" she stopped when she saw that the garments were hanging up.

Spike followed her gaze and suddenly he thought he knew how they'd come to be on the floor. Had Buffy been in his room? He remembered thinking he'd heard something.

"_Oh, bloody hell!"_

"Um…I'll go get that shower," he said quickly and gratefully disappeared into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

"_Oh my God!" _He remembered how he'd pulled the covers back over himself. _"She saw me naked." _He looked down. _"She saw me…oh Christ!"_

He stepped into the shower and put it on cold, letting the water do its work, before turning it back up and washing. Once he was dressed he went downstairs and found Buffy and her mom preparing breakfast.

"Good morning Spike, did you sleep okay?" asked Joyce, "I know I'm terrible at getting to sleep in a strange bed."

"No, I slept just fine, thank you," said Spike politely, _"Yeah real well, Mrs. Summers. Kept thinking about yer daughter and I'm pretty sure she's seen me naked – just peachy."_

He avoided Buffy's eye as he spoke, which was a good thing because if he had glanced at her he would have been left in absolutely no doubt that Buffy had indeed seen him in all his glory.

To be continued…


	41. Chapter 41

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: I own only the plot!

Chapter Forty-One

"Um…I'd better be going home," said Spike reluctantly when the breakfast dishes had been cleared away.

"Would you like a ride home?" asked Joyce.

"No, it's okay. I'll walk," replied Spike, "Thanks for having me stay over."

"It was my pleasure, Spike."

"I'll go and get your bag," offered Buffy.

"I'll get it," said Spike.

Joyce smiled as the two of them went up the stairs. She was pleased that they looked like they were getting on better together. She knew from her conversations with Rupert that Spike wasn't the trouble-maker that both she and Buffy had first thought. He'd just been through some bad times and made a few wrong decisions.

Ooooooo

When they got to the bedroom they looked at each other properly for the first time that morning. Spike opened his mouth to speak but found the thought of her seeing him naked made him tongue-tied. For once he didn't blush or drop eye contact. He just leaned forwards and kissed her.

When they parted both of them were a little breathless.

"Mm," said Buffy, smiling up at him.

"Mm?"

"Yes, that was lovely."

He grinned at her and tilted his head on one side, "Lovely, huh?"

"Yep."

"That's good. I wouldn't want to disappoint."

"Oh, trust me, I don't think you'll ever disappoint me," replied Buffy with a cheeky grin of her own.

"Wot do yer mean, _ever_, disappoint?" asked Spike, eyes twinkling.

Buffy slightly flushed as she recalled Spike's aroused body, confirming Spike's fears.

"Um…Buffy…did you come into my room this morning?" he asked.

"Me? Your room? No!" said Buffy, hearing the lie to the words as she said them.

She risked a glance at Spike; he was struggling not to laugh at her discomfort, his own forgotten.

"Yer sure about that?"

"Oh, okay! I came in to get a blouse. It's not my fault you were laying there all naked!" she cried, "I saw your pyjamas. I didn't know you'd be flat on your back with the sheets around your ankles!"

Now it was Spike's turn to blush.

"Bloody hell, Buffy!"

Soon they were both laughing helplessly.

Ooooooo

Spike wandered slowly home. He'd arranged to meet up with Buffy the next morning before the start of class. He smiled to himself as he remembered their kisses.

"Who looks like the cat that's got the cream then?"

The voice startled him out of his reverie. He looked up.

"Angel," he groaned as the quarterback stood right in front of him.

"I saw you with Cordelia at the dance. She was supposed to be my date," growled Angel.

"_Thanks, Cordy!"_ "Yeah well, she asked me, okay?" said Spike, amazed at how even his voice sounded. He knew he'd been lucky by getting the first punch in that day and didn't want to risk a repeat.

"You think you're clever, don't you? Dating her then moving on to Buffy the next night. I saw you turn her away. She even ended up dancing with that geek Xander," snarled Angel.

"For God's sake, Angel, I haven't moved on. I was never 'with' Cordelia - she just asked me to the dance is all," protested Spike, trying to walk past him.

Angel put a hand on his shoulder. "If I don't get back with Cordelia, you're so dead."

"Heard that before," replied Spike, shrugging off his hand and walking away.

"Dead, English; you're fucking dead," yelled Angel.

Spike just kept walking.

"Bloody all I need," he muttered sourly, but he soon cheered up again as his thoughts returned to Buffy.

Ooooooo

"Hey Rupert, I'm home," called Spike as he walked in and took off his duster, hanging it on a rack near the door.

Rupert put down the book he was reading and glanced over to Spike.

"Did you have a good time then?"

He was rewarded with a broad grin.

"Yeah, it was great." Spike sat down in the spare armchair.

"You certainly look a little more enthusiastic than the night before," noted Rupert.

"Well, I told yer that it wasn't a proper date; just something I couldn't get out of doing," replied Spike.

"Oh? So was last night a proper date?" teased Rupert, smiling as Spike flushed.

"Um…well…I was there with everybody," stuttered Spike, wishing he could stop this blushing thing.

"So did you enjoy seeing Oz's band play?" said Rupert, changing the subject and giving Spike a reprieve from his embarrassment.

"They were good," said Spike.

"That doesn't sound very convincing. I thought you liked the songs Oz plays when he comes over."

"I do," replied Spike, "but they only played half of their set and none of Oz's songs before Devon just upped and left."

"Oh, poor Oz. That's not very responsible of Devon, is it? Letting them down like that."

"Thing is, they got another singer and carried on," said Spike.

"Another singer?" asked Giles, "Did they just pull someone out of the audience? How odd."

"Not exactly, see, Oz asked me," said Spike quietly.

"You?" Giles was incredulous, kicking himself when he saw the look on Spike's face.

"Yeah," he muttered.

"I'm sorry, Spike. I didn't mean that the way it sounded. I'm just surprised that you got up on a stage and performed. You won't even let me listen to you sing when Oz is here."

"Oz was desperate not to let everyone down, so I couldn't say no."

"So did you enjoy it?" prompted Rupert.

Spike's wide grin returned, "Yeah, it was bloody amazing! I was terrified of going on but once I was up there… The guys want me to be their new lead singer," enthused Spike.

"Well done, you," said Rupert.

It seemed that he'd been more than right about Oz being good for Spike. Being in the band might just be the making of him.

"Thanks, I'm going to go and e-mail Rich," said Spike as he disappeared into his bedroom.

Ooooooo

Spike followed Monica into her office. It was Tuesday and time for his counselling session. He was in a great mood; things had gone well with Buffy at school. He'd been nervous that she might have changed her mind but yesterday she'd greeted him with a kiss that had caused a few nearby kids to shout 'get a room!'

"Good morning, Spike," said Monica once they were settled in their seats, "What's all this I'm hearing about you?"

"Wot's all wot?"

"Come on, don't be modest. I heard you – what was the phrase – rocked at The Bronze on Saturday."

"How did yer hear about that?" asked Spike, eyes wide.

"A girl I had a session with yesterday wouldn't stop talking about it," replied Monica with a smile.

"Yeah?" Spike grinned.

"Apparently she thought you were really hot, especially once you'd taken off your jacket," said Monica, laughing as Spike flushed just as she'd predicted he would.

"Um," muttered Spike, looking down, "Not so sure about that."

"Spike, you really have to stop putting yourself down and learn how to take a compliment," said Monica, "You're obviously confident enough when you're up on stage so try bringing a little of that off stage with you too."

Spike looked up at her, "I do try to but…before the …um…accident I just used to try my best to be invisible, really. Kind of weird to hear stuff like that."

"The bleached hair and leather jacket don't look like an attempt to fit in, let alone appear invisible."

"Yeah, I know. When I came over here I wanted things to be different, so I made sure I looked different," replied Spike honestly.

"What was so bad about your life that you wanted it to be different?" asked Monica gently.

Spike thought for a time before he answered. He couldn't tell her it was because of the constant bullying by Angel.

"I reckon I thought who I was, wot I was before, was gone. I didn't want to look in the mirror and see who I used to be. The scar," he said touching it with his fingers, "reminds me of what happened everyday anyway. I still miss my mum…um, all of them, yer know."

She watched him carefully as he spoke, "You will, Spike, but it will get easier, less painful in time," she said sympathetically, "It seems like you've made some good friends now."

Spike smiled, "Yeah, I 'ave. Oz is great, he's just so laid back – well apart from when Devon had walked out. It was funny to see him wigging out."

"Wigging out?" chuckled Monica, "You're starting to sound like a native!"

"It does sort of rub off on yer when yer hear it all the time," said Spike, this time trying to emphasise his 'English' accent.

"So who else are you friends with? Not just Oz surely?" asked Monica, recalling that he'd referred to Oz's friends as people not friends when they'd last spoke of them.

"There's a group of us - Oz's girlfriend Willow, Xander and Buffy. Oh, and since I'm now in the band I reckon I'll be hanging out with Pete and Joey too," said Spike happily.

He'd never before been able to count so many as friends. Let's face it, for pretty much his whole life he hadn't had any friends at all.

To be continued…


	42. Chapter 42

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: I only own the plot!

Chapter Forty-Two

Spike didn't get the chance to take Buffy out anywhere with just the two of them until the following Sunday. They'd seen each other at school and at the tutoring sessions. Not that they'd gotten much work done during them; they seemed to spend more time just gazing into each other's eyes and trying to resist the urge to kiss. Spike had been invited to join the friends in their regular Friday night out at the Bronze. He was rapidly losing his shyness around them, joining in with their banter. The highlight of the evening for Spike was when he and Buffy danced several times to slow songs. He'd thought it was absolute bliss to be holding Buffy in his arms. He'd walked her home and they'd kissed for what seemed like hours before he could drag himself away from her.

Now he was busy in the kitchen preparing a picnic for their date. Rupert kept hovering to see how the food was looking as he recalled Spike's attempts at cooking with a grimace. He needn't have worried as Spike carefully made sandwiches, added some potato chips, some fruit and put in some bottles of orange juice and cans of Coke.

Rupert had bought a picnic hamper for Spike to use when he had told him of his plans. He got one that was like a knapsack rather than a traditional wicker basket thinking it would be easier for Spike to carry it on his back, correctly guessing that he would refuse a ride to the park.

"Okay, I'm going now," called Spike, picking up his duster and the hamper.

"Have fun."

"Thanks. See yer later," replied Spike.

Spike walked along to Buffy's house where he'd insisted he'd meet her. He knocked on the door and was surprised to see it opened by Buffy and not her mom.

"Wow, are yer ready?" asked Spike, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, I'm ready. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Um…well, I'm early and you're never on time," replied Spike, tilting his head on one side and smiling.

"That is so not true!" exclaimed Buffy.

"Oh, honey, you know it is very true," laughed her mom, walking up behind her, "Hello, Spike. How are you?"

"I'm great, thanks, Mrs. Summers," said Spike, "If you're ready, shall we go?" he added to Buffy.

"I'll just grab my purse," said Buffy, disappearing from view.

"Are you sure you don't want a ride, Spike? That bag looks heavy," asked Joyce.

"No, it's alright. It's not very heavy, thanks," replied Spike politely.

"Okay, I've got it," said Buffy, reappearing, "See you, Mom."

"Have a nice time," smiled Joyce as she closed the door.

Spike gazed at Buffy, took her small hand in his and they walked away. It wasn't until they were halfway to the park that Spike realised that the route they were taking would mean that they passed his former home.

He found his footsteps slowed involuntarily as it got nearer. Buffy noticed his change in pace and saw that they were near William's house.

"Are you okay?" she asked quietly, "I'm sorry, I forgot that we'd go by William's house if we took this route." She glanced up at him and saw his eyes were bright with unshed tears.

Spike didn't look at her afraid the tears pricking at his eyes would fall.

"I'm okay," he whispered, but his grip on her hand got tighter the nearer they got.

He knew the house had been sold but had avoided going near the place since the night he'd been arrested. They both paused when they got to it.

"They've mended the fence," said Spike.

The whole place already looked better. The fence was painted white, its garden was tidy and windows were clean and shiny. They heard a giggle and a little boy of about three years old came running into the front yard, followed by his mother.

"Billy, some back here," she laughed, scooping up the wriggling child into her arms and kissing him.

She spotted the teenagers on the sidewalk.

"Lovely day, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," replied Buffy.

Spike couldn't speak; he was lost in his thoughts. He could see himself running into the yard much as little Billy had just done - his mom picking him up and taking him to the back of the house where his dad was tending to the barbecue. He'd hugged his wife and child. It had been before his dad had lost his job and started to drink heavily. It was one of Spike's few happy memories of his father.

Spike felt a little tug on his hand; he quickly wiped his hand across his eyes before turning to Buffy. She was looking at him with concern. He smiled and dropped a kiss on her cheek.

"'M okay," he said. He smiled at her and they carried on along their way.

Ooooooo

At the park they found a shady spot under a tree as far away as possible from other people. Spike shrugged off both the hamper and his jacket. He laid the jacket on the floor and gestured for Buffy to sit on it. She did so with a smile. He carefully unpacked the food.

"So what do you want first?" he asked.

"This," said Buffy, leaning over and kissing him.

All thoughts of food were forgotten as they made out. Spike moaned as he felt Buffy's tongue brush his lips. She really was the most amazing kisser. He followed her lead and quested with his tongue to meet hers. They slowly lay down, each lost in the other.

"God, Buffy, I love you," whispered Spike.

"_Bloody hell, did I say that aloud?"_ he thought in panic as he felt Buffy tense up in his arms. "Um…I'm sorry…it…er…I…" he stuttered.

"Spike," said Buffy seriously.

He said nothing – just stared deep into her eyes.

"I really like you…"

"But," added Spike, _"Oh Christ, there had to be a bloody but!"_

"But," smiled Buffy, "I don't think I love you."

Spike heart sank. He dropped his eyes and started to sit up, "Yeah, um…too soon…stupid…"

Buffy put her hand on his shoulder and pulled him back down.

"I'm teasing," she said softly.

"Wot?" Spike met her gaze.

"I'm joking."

"Not funny," interjected Spike, a touch sulkily.

"No, I realise it now," replied Buffy. She'd regretted the words as soon as she'd seen the hurt on Spike's face, "Spike, I don't think I love you – I know I do."

"Really? 'Onest?"

She kissed him instead of answering.

"Please don't do that again," said Spike when they'd parted.

"Kiss you? I thought you liked me kissing you?"

"Not that. Joking about your feelings for me. I couldn't bear it, okay?" said Spike quietly.

She could see his lack of self-confidence come to the fore once more and she silently cursed herself.

"I won't, Spike, I promise," she said sincerely.

In that instant she knew. Knew that he was 'the one'. The one she'd be with always.

To be continued….


	43. Chapter 43

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: I only own the plot!

Chapter Forty-Three

The weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas flew by. Principal Snyder had told Spike that since his grades had improved as required that the extra tutoring could stop after the holidays. Spike didn't care as he was already seeing Buffy as often as he possibly could.

Dingoes Ate My Baby had played twice more at the Bronze, both times to great success; Oz and Spike's original songs being particularly well received. Spike's confidence on stage grew each time and to his own and Oz's delight he hadn't resorted to liquor before either concert. Although still almost physically sick with nerves beforehand, as soon as he walked on stage he relaxed and enjoyed himself. The other band members were thrilled that he'd agreed to be their singer as he had a charisma on stage that belied his youth and was all the more impressive as he seemed totally unaware of it himself.

Rupert and Spike had been invited to spend Christmas with Joyce and Buffy. They were going to stay over from Christmas Eve until the twenty-seventh when Rupert would fly out to London to sort out things with the solicitors regarding the Norman family house. Joyce had kindly offered to have Spike stay on with her until Rupert got back, joking that it would save the kids a lot of transatlantic phone calls. Spike and Buffy were, of course, delighted with this development.

It was Christmas Eve with about an hour to go before the stores closed and, in traditional male fashion, Rupert and Spike were doing their Christmas shopping.

Rupert, remembering what a jolly affair Christmas had been when he'd spent it with the Normans, was feeling slightly panicky about how Spike would cope with his first one without his parents. It was when he'd voiced his concerns to Joyce that she'd immediately invited them, and he'd accepted it with relief.

Little did he know that Spike's normal Christmas consisted of him trying to prevent his mom drinking even more than usual as she failed to cope with the holiday season. He was effectively alone for most of it as she was usually passed out by mid morning. So although he had loved his mom and did miss her, Christmas wasn't going to upset him any more than any other day. In fact he was actually looking forward to having a good time and a good meal for once.

Ooooooo

Spike wanted to get Buffy something special but he had no idea what to get. He'd split up from Rupert so he could look for it without getting embarrassed. For some reason his eye kept getting drawn to rings, but he knew that the time wasn't quite ready for that just yet. Then he saw it - a silver bracelet. The chain was so intricately and delicately woven that it appeared to be fine lace. He went into the shop, gulped a bit at the price but came out smiling with it in its box in his duster's pocket.

Buffy had tipped Spike off to what her mom's favourite perfume was so he soon added that to his purchases. He struggled with what to buy Rupert. He'd never bought his dad a present so he had no experience of what would be liked. In the end he bought him a couple of books that Rupert had mentioned he'd wanted to read, and a really vulgarly coloured tie as a joke.

Rupert and Spike met up as arranged and went home. They were due to arrive at the Summers' house for dinner at seven thirty. Spike went to his room to wrap his presents and pack his bag for the stay. Soon they were on their way out again.

Joyce opened the door and welcomed Rupert and Spike in. Buffy showed them to the guest room where they'd put up a cot for Spike to use until Rupert had left.

"I'm sorry it's such a squeeze in the bedroom," said Joyce, once they were all sitting in the lounge.

"It's fine, Joyce. Thank you," replied Rupert, "It's very good of you to have us to stay."

Spike helped Buffy set the table for dinner, managing to steal a few kisses as they did. The meal was a relaxed affair; the conversations and wine flowed effortlessly. Rupert was proud to see Spike decline Joyce's offer of a small glass of wine as she'd forgotten about his previous problem. Buffy also refused so Spike wouldn't feel that he was the only one missing out.

Spike lay awake for some time after he'd gone to bed, listening to Rupert's snores and again acutely aware of Buffy's close proximity. This time he was wearing his pyjama bottoms. He would have worn them even if he hadn't been sharing with Rupert, not wanting to risk another embarrassing encounter. He felt too hot but had lost the argument about having the bedroom window open, so he just left off his top and kicked off the sheets.

Ooooooo

Spike was the first up on Christmas morning. He grinned as he went to get showered, feeling as excited about the day as a little kid. Buffy was waiting outside the bathroom when he reappeared, his hair all curly from the shower. She looked at his bare torso appreciatively before standing on tiptoe and kissing him. He wrapped his arms around her.

"Happy Christmas, Buffy," he whispered in her ear.

"You too, Spike."

"Ahem!"

They flew apart and turned to see Rupert standing there smiling at them.

"Are you using the bathroom next, Buffy, or may I?"

"Go ahead, Mr. Giles," said Buffy, stepping to one side, "I'll go in after you."

As soon as Rupert closed the door Buffy and Spike started to giggle.

"I'd better go and get dressed," said Spike.

"Shame," replied Buffy, staring at his bare chest.

"Yeah…well…" said Spike with a smile before going to his room.

Ooooooo

Soon all four of them were gathered in the lounge around the Christmas tree where Spike and Rupert had added their gifts to the others last night.

"Can we open our presents now please?" asked Buffy.

"Yes, honey," replied Joyce.

Spike kept watching Buffy carefully, enjoying seeing her face as she opened her gifts. He'd pushed his small parcel to the bottom in the hope that it would be the last one she'd open. He was relieved that Rupert seemed pleased with the books and everyone laughed at the sight of the tie.

"You must wear that today, Mr. Giles," giggled Buffy.

"Yeah, Rupert, I'll be hurt if you don't," added Spike.

"Okay, okay," laughed Rupert, admitting defeat, "I'll put it on."

So far Spike had received a set of expensive pens and leather bound notebooks from Joyce.

"They're for you to use when you write your songs," said Joyce as she watched him open the parcel.

"Wow, Mrs. Summers, thank you so much. They're great," said Spike.

"Open mine next," said Buffy, pushing it into his hand.

He duly obliged. It was a necklace, a leather thong with a pewter pendant. The pendant was exactly the same shape as his tattoo.

"Do you like it?" asked Buffy anxiously as he just stared at it.

"No," he said slowly, "I love it. Where did you find it?"

"I looked up designs that meant bravery on the Internet and found it there. It came from England, just like you," she giggled.

Spike immediately put it on. Buffy picked up the final parcel from under the tree. She glanced at Spike; he was trying to act casual but was praying she'd like it.

"Oh my God! It's gorgeous," cried Buffy, flinging her arms around him.

"Um…I hoped you'd like it," said Spike, staring at her intensely.

Both adults exchanged amused looks as the two were oblivious to them. Rupert hoped that the discovery that Spike and Buffy were obviously a little more than friends wouldn't mean that Joyce felt awkward about Spike staying once he'd gone to England. He made a mental note to have a word with her about it when they were alone.

"Spike," said Rupert.

Spike reluctantly tore his eyes away from Buffy to look at Rupert.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry that you haven't had much of a present from me," said Rupert, "I just didn't know what to get you."

"Wot do yer mean? You gave me the Foo Fighters new CD, that's great," said Spike sincerely. He'd never received so many gifts at Christmas.

"That's good. I can always treat you to something next time we go shopping to make it a little more special."

"Honestly, Rupert, there's no need. I love the album, thanks."

"Oh, could you do me a favour please? I left the wine for lunch in the trunk. Could you go and get it?" said Rupert, smiling at him.

"Sure," said Spike, getting up.

He didn't notice that the others had followed him to the door. He walked to the car, opened the trunk and then froze.

"Christ," he whispered.

He glanced back at the house. Rupert, Joyce and Buffy were standing there all smiling expectantly. He looked back into the trunk.

"Are you going to bring it in anytime soon?" joked Rupert.

"Um…yeah," said Spike.

He reached in and carefully lifted out the guitar case. As he put his hand up to pull the trunk lid shut, he quickly wiped his eyes and blinked a few times. They all returned to the lounge and Spike sat on the floor. He laid the case in front of him and opened the lid. Inside was an acoustic guitar - a Taylor - one of the best. Spike stroked it reverently.

"Is it alright? Oz helped me choose it," said Rupert.

"It's amazing, it's brilliant," said Spike, "but it's too much."

"Nonsense, Spike."

"No, really, you didn't have to do this. After all the trouble I've caused you Rupert, I don't deserve it," he said, voice wavering slightly.

Rupert went over to him and gave him a hug.

"I wanted to do it for you, you more than deserve it. Now take it out and let's all see it properly.

"Okay," he murmured.

He picked it out of its case and went to sit on a chair. The guitar had a royal blue and white embroidered strap which he slung over his shoulder. He gently ran his thumb over the strings.

"Oz tuned it for me yesterday," said Rupert.

"Are you going to play it for us?" asked Buffy.

"Um…I'm not very good," said Spike, "I'm still learning."

"Just a little, Spike," urged Joyce

"If I have to wear that bloody tie I'm sure you can give us a bit of a tune," joked Rupert.

"Okay, but I'm not singing."

He started to play the introduction of the song that he had sung that first night at the Bronze. He glanced up at Buffy and winked at her. He played up to the first chorus and then stopped. Spike grinned as the others gave him a round of applause.

"That's enough of that," he said, putting the guitar back in its case, "Thanks, Rupert."

To be continued….


	44. Chapter 44

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: I only own the plot!

Chapter Forty-Four

The day finally arrived. Rupert was due back from England that night. Spike gloomily packed his bag. He'd really enjoyed his stay with the Summers. He'd had the best Christmas ever. Every time he looked at his guitar he still couldn't believe that Rupert had bought it for him.

"Hey."

He turned to see Buffy at the door to the bedroom.

"Hi, Buffy," said Spike.

"Mom's left to go and open the gallery. She said you can leave your bag and guitar here and we'll bring them over when we come for dinner tomorrow night. That's if you can bear to leave your guitar behind," said Buffy, smiling at him.

"That'd be great, thanks. I didn't really want to carry her across town."

"Her?"

"'Course she's a 'her'," Spike grinned, "Be a bit worrying for yer if I loved something I called a him now, wouldn't it? I'd be dropping you and chasing Xander."

Buffy thumped him. He grabbed her arm and pulled her into his arms.

"That's not very nice behaviour. I think you had better make it up to me."

She kissed him. "Will that do?"

"Mm, I dunno. I reckon yer need to do it again," smiled Spike.

She duly obliged then took hold of his hand.

"I could make it up to you even more," said Buffy softly.

Spike looked at her quizzically.

"We're on our own," she said.

The penny finally dropped. "Oh God, Buffy," he whispered.

She smiled at him and kissed him again. Spike kissed her back hungrily.

"Come on," said Buffy, leading him by the hand from the guest room to her own.

He hesitated at the doorway. "Are yer sure?"

"I've never been more certain of anything."

She looked up at him, her green eyes wide and any resolve he had was fast disappearing. He stepped into her bedroom. There was no turning back now.

She pulled him to the bed, pushing the door shut behind them. They sat on the bed. Spike put his hand up and gently stroked her face.

"You're so beautiful."

"You're not so bad yourself."

They kissed again and lay down on the bed. Buffy put her hand beneath Spike's t-shirt; the touch of her hand on his stomach caused a thrill to go through him. He moaned softly. She found the buckle of his belt and undid it. Spike put his hand over hers.

"Buffy, you don't have to do this, I can wait," said Spike, _"Oh please God, don't let her say no now!"_ His heart was beating so fast and he felt like he was going to burst out of his jeans.

"Don't you want to?" asked Buffy.

"God, yes! Of course I do, but I don't want you to think you have to, pet. I love you and I don't want you to think you're under any pressure. I'm not going anywhere," he replied, leaning in to her and kissing her gently.

Buffy deepened the kiss, "I want it Spike, and I want you."

Slowly they undressed each other. Spike gasped at the first sight of Buffy's breasts. He was terrified that his inexperience would be his undoing. He didn't know how long his self-control would last.

As they kissed their hands explored each other's bodies. Spike tentatively ran his hand down Buffy's stomach, going lower and lower until it slipped between her thighs. She shifted slightly, yielding to his touch. He gazed at her and she met his eyes. For a moment they paused, just drinking each other in. Spike kissed her again, his fingers exploring a little deeper as he did. Buffy sighed and relaxed into him.

He moved his hand away from her.

"Don't stop," she whispered, "It's lovely."

Spike smiled, "Your turn now."

He took hold of her hand and guided it until it touched him, moaning softly in pleasure as she stroked her way down. She got bolder and gripped him tighter. He could barely contain himself, another groan escaping his lips.

"Oh, was that too hard?" asked Buffy, easing the pressure of her fingers.

"No…God no…it's…I don't know how much longer I can wait," gasped Spike.

She kissed him and pulled his shoulders, wanting him to lie on top of her. He shifted position a little awkwardly, Buffy wriggling down the bed a little to meet him.

"_Protection!"_ A voice inside his head suddenly screamed.

He drew back a little.

"Um…we need…I haven't got any…oh shit!"

Buffy giggled and when he shot her a sharp look she explained.

"'S okay, Spike. I used to have really bad cramps so the doctor put me on the pill six months ago to prevent them. So we're okay, we're safe."

"Oh thank God," sighed Spike.

He kissed her stomach and traced a line of kisses up to her breasts, smiling as Buffy responded with a gasp. Then he was on her lips. They kissed until both were slightly breathless. Spike gently eased himself into Buffy. It took every ounce of self-control not to lose it at that first ever contact. Buffy lifted her hips towards him and he felt her tense a little.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?" he whispered.

Buffy just shook her head in reply. He pushed towards her until he was completely surrounded by her. Then slowly, gently, he started to move in and out, each thrust of his met by one from Buffy. The feeling was incredible.

The next moments were spent learning about themselves and each other; finding out what gave the most pleasure. Finally Spike could hold off no more - with a cry he felt himself release. They held one another tightly, reluctant to move apart.

As Buffy lay there she thought about all the stories she'd heard about other girls' first times. How it hurt and was unfulfilling being fumbled by a clumsy boy. The general consensus at school was to go with a boy who'd done it before. She disagreed; she knew it had been Spike's first time too, but he'd been gentle and intuitively seemed to know what gave her the most pleasure.

"_Perhaps it was different for us because we're in love?"_

"Penny for 'em?" said Spike.

She smiled, "Just thinking how much I love you, Spike Norman."

She was rewarded with a kiss, "I love you too, pet. That was just amazing."

"Yeah, it kind of was, wasn't it?"

Spike glanced at his watch.

"I'd better get going," he said reluctantly, "I think I need to have a shower, though."

"Okay, you can have the first one," replied Buffy, not wanting, or was that able, to move just yet.

Spike got up and walked to the bathroom. He was surprised that he didn't feel a little shy about Buffy staring at him as he got up. But he didn't, there was nothing of his that wasn't now partly Buffy's too. No shame in that.

Ooooooo

Later as he was ready to leave, he found he could hardly bear to go.

"Buffy…I…" he started.

She put her finger on his lips, "Shh Spike, I know, but you've got to go. I'll see you tomorrow evening."

Spike pouted a little, tilting his head on one side.

"Tomorrow evening? But that's ages away."

"It can't be helped. You know I've promised Mom I'd help her in the gallery tomorrow," reminded Buffy.

"Oh, okay, tomorrow night it is."

He kissed her hard enough to make her knees weak and walked away.

Ooooooo

As Spike walked home he was totally oblivious to the world around him, cocooned as he was in his thoughts. No surprise that they were full of Buffy. He grinned as he thought of what they'd just shared.

He never saw it coming.

The first blow of the baseball bat hit him on the lower back bringing him to his knees. He couldn't even cry out as the pain took his breath away.

The second hit him on the side of his head and everything went black.

To be continued….


	45. Chapter 45

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: I only own the plot!

Chapter Forty-Five

Pain.

Everywhere.

Spike was dimly aware of the sound of running feet. He fought to try to stay conscious but it was a battle he was losing. He was laying face down on the sidewalk, blood pouring into his mouth from a cut on his tongue caused when his jaw snapped shut from the force of the blow. He gagged a little on it. He tried to move but couldn't get any of the messages through to his limbs and finally gave up and just succumbed to the beckoning oblivion.

Ooooooo

"Oh my God! Xander! You've got to help me! Do you know where Spike is?" the voice screamed.

Xander pulled his cell phone away from his ear.

"No need to shout, Cordy. What's so urgent?"

"It's Angel, he's just been here. My Dad had to throw him out. He's really angry that I wouldn't accept his Christmas presents.

"Okay, but what has this got to do with Spike?" asked Xander in confusion.

"He thinks I'm seeing him!" she wailed, "I've tried to call him at home but there's no reply."

"Look, calm down. He's been staying at Buffy's. I still don't know how Angel thinks you're with Spike though?"

"I told him!" said Cordelia, bursting into tears.

"For God's sake, why?" shouted Xander.

"Because he knew I was seeing someone else and I didn't want him to come and find you and beat you up. I knew he would if I told him we were together."

Xander rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation, _"And I like her because…?"_ "So you just sent him after Spike? You don't do that to people, Cordy. You're unbelievable!"

"I'm sorry, I just panicked," sobbed Cordelia, "Please don't be cross with me."

"I'm not, I just wish you'd think things through sometimes. I'll call Buffy and warn Spike."

"Can I come over?"

"Sure, see you in a few."

Xander dialled Buffy's number. It rang and rang until finally Xander hung up in frustration.

Ooooooo

Cordelia's red car screeched to a halt outside Xander's house. He met her on the driveway.

"Did you tell him?" she asked anxiously.

"No, there was no reply."

"Oh God!"

"Shall we go over to the house? They might not have heard the phone," suggested Xander.

"Yes, hurry up!" said Cordelia.

Xander held onto the car's door handle in terror as Cordy raced to the Summers' home.

"Why are you so worried? Surely Angel won't really do anything. I mean, Spike beat him up a few weeks ago."

"You don't know what Angel's like when he totally loses it. He just explodes, Xander."

She leapt out of the car and was rushing to the house before Xander had even opened his door. He rushed to catch up with her. Cordelia hammered on the door. After a few minutes Buffy opened it, hair still wet from the shower she'd taken after Spike had left.

"What's with the banging on the door? Why don't you just break it down - it'd be quieter?"

"Where's Spike?" shouted Cordelia, looking into the house over Buffy's shoulder.

"Why do you need to know?" asked Buffy. She looked at Xander, "Why does she want Spike?"

"Is he here, Buff? Angel's out looking for him and Cordy thinks he means big trouble."

"Oh God," gasped Buffy, "He left here about a half hour ago. He'll be home by now."

She ran to the telephone in the kitchen and quickly dialled the number. Her face paled as it went unanswered.

"He should be there! What have you done now?" she snarled at Cordelia, "I know you made him go to that dance with you. Where do you get off messing with people's lives?"

"We haven't got time for this right now, Buff," said Xander, "Do you know what route he normally goes?"

Buffy nodded, "Let's go and see if we can find him."

They all piled into Cordy's car and were almost at Spike's apartment when they saw the ambulance.

The paramedics were putting a stretcher into the back of it and Buffy caught a glimpse of bleach blond hair.

"Stop the car!" screamed Buffy.

Cordelia slammed on the brakes. Buffy jumped out and ran to the paramedics.

"Let me see him!" she yelled, trying to climb in.

One of the paramedics blocked her path.

"I'm sorry, miss. We have to get him to the hospital."

"But I need to see him. I just need to see if it is him!"

He stood aside so she could see Spike's face.

"Do you know him?"

Buffy nodded, unable to speak. Spike was deathly pale and covered in blood.

"It's Spike, er, James Norman. He's her boyfriend," said Xander, putting his arm around Buffy.

"Danny, we've got to go – now," called the paramedic tending to Spike in the ambulance.

"I can't let you ride in here because you're not family. Look, I've got to go," said the first medic, rushing to get into the driver's seat.

Buffy stood there frozen to the spot as she watched the ambulance speed away, lights flashing and siren blaring.

"I've got to go to be with him," said Buffy, her voice a monotone.

"I'll drive you," offered Cordelia.

Buffy turned to face the tall brunette, "Damn right you are!" she growled as she slapped Cordelia's face.

Ooooooo

Buffy used Xander's cell phone to call her mother.

"Spike's been hurt!" she blurted as soon as her mom picked it up, "He's being taken to the hospital."

"Oh no! What happened?" asked Joyce.

"I don't know," said Buffy, starting to cry, "Xander and Cordelia are taking me there now."

"Don't cry, honey. I'm closing the gallery now and I'll meet you there."

Buffy handed the phone back to Xander.

"Buffy, I'm sorry, I…" started Cordelia.

"Just shut up!" snapped Buffy; "I can't talk to you right now! God, I hope Spike's okay. He's got to be okay!"

Cordelia fell silent. Xander gave her knee a little squeeze. She glanced at him and he smiled at her, trying to reassure her that everything would be all right.

They arrived just moments after the ambulance, Buffy once again catching a glimpse of his inert body as he was wheeled through some doors. She tried to follow but was stopped by a nurse.

"I'm sorry but you can't go through there," she said gently.

"I've got to see him," wailed Buffy.

"Just let the doctors do their work. Why don't you give his details at the desk and then wait in the chairs? I'll come and find you as soon as we know more, okay?"

Buffy nodded. Xander came up to her and led her towards the desk. They'd just gotten there when Joyce arrived at a run.

"Oh, Buffy," she said when she saw her daughter.

"Mom!" Buffy flung herself into her mom's open arms and burst into fresh tears.

"Xander, go and sit over there with her," she said, nodding to the seats, "I'll see what I can find out." She untangled herself from Buffy and walked to the desk.

"Hello, I'm enquiring about a boy who had just been brought in. His name is James Norman," Joyce asked the man behind the desk.

"Are you a relative?"

"No, but he's been staying with me while his guardian is out of the country. He's not due in until late tonight so I am responsible for him," she explained.

"Oh, okay, let's have a look." He tapped the keyboard of his computer. "I haven't got any real details yet. He's only just been admitted but he's listed as having head trauma…"

"Oh goodness! Not again," gasped Joyce.

"What do you mean?"

"Six months ago he was in a bad car wreck in England. I don't know his exact injuries but I know he was unconscious for several days."

"I'll get that information to the doctor working on him. Please take a seat and I'll get someone to see you as soon as they can."

"Thank you," said Joyce. She walked over to the others.

"Hey Lisa, can you let Dr. Harper know that the kid he's working on had a major head injury six months ago?"

"Sure thing, Rob," replied Lisa, and she rushed away to inform the team.

To be continued…..


	46. Chapter 46

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: I only own the plot!

Chapter Forty-Six

The medical team worked quickly and efficiently on Spike. His head was x-rayed and thankfully revealed no new fracture or damage to the site of his previous one. He had extensive and very severe bruising to his lower back but again x-rays on his lumber spine were clean. Spike was moved from the ER to a ward. He was drifting close to consciousness but not quite surfacing just yet.

Ooooooo

A nurse approached Joyce and Buffy. Joyce had sent Xander and Cordelia home, seeing that the other girl's presence was, for some reason, upsetting her daughter. She had promised them she'd let them know how Spike was as soon as they had more news.

"Mrs. Summers?"

"Yes."

"I understand that you're caring for James Norman at the moment, is that right?"

"Yes, yes it is. His legal guardian is in England and he's returning late tonight. How is he? What happened?"

"We're not entirely sure what happened to him but it appears that he was attacked with a weapon of some sort – most likely a baseball bat."

Buffy gasped and started to cry once more. Her mother hugged her tightly.

"He's still unconscious," continued the nurse, "but he is showing signs of coming round. All his x-rays were clear. Obviously the sooner he regains consciousness the better but we don't think he's in any danger."

"Oh, thank God for that," said Joyce, "Thank you. May we see him please?"

"Yes, you can come and sit with him for a little while," replied the nurse.

Joyce kept her arm around her distraught daughter.

"Buffy, honey, you've got to try to be strong when we get to see Spike."

"I'll try, Mom, but I'm just so worried about him," said Buffy with a sniff or two.

"I know, but he'll be okay. I'm sure of it," reassured Joyce.

Ooooooo

It took all of Buffy's strength not to cry anew when she saw him lying on the bed. They'd cleaned him up a bit but his hair was still tinged pink with blood from his head wound. She could see a row of sutures in a shaved patch of scalp behind his right ear. His face was grazed. His eyes were closed but Buffy could see the lids moving a little. She sat in the chair near the bed and took hold of his hand. She glanced up at her mom, her eyes huge and brimming with unshed tears.

"I'll go and get us a hot drink," said Joyce, seeing that Buffy needed to be alone with him just now.

She'd known that the pair of them had been developing feelings for each other but only now, looking at her daughter, did she realise quite how deep they were.

"Thanks, Mom," said Buffy quietly.

She waited for her mom to leave before she started to talk to Spike, stroking his hand as she did.

"Oh Spike, please be okay. You've got to be okay. I love you so much."

Spike remained silent.

"It's the New Year in a couple of days and I want to be kissing you at midnight."

She babbled on, saying anything and everything that came to her mind. He started to stir, eyelids fluttering and lips moving. She leaned in closely trying to hear what he was saying.

"Mom? It hurts so much. Why did Dad hit me again; was I bad?" The words were barely audible. A tear escaped from his eye and rolled slowly down his face.

Buffy's heart missed a beat, "No, Spike, it's not your mom. It's me, it's Buffy."

"Spike?" he whispered, "William's Spike."

"What?" asked Buffy she'd barely heard the words. She was rewarded with a bit of a groan and felt his hand start to grip hers.

"James named Spike," he murmured, beginning to move restlessly on the bed.

"I love you, Spike. Come back to me," pleaded Buffy.

Buffy leant forwards and kissed him gently on his cheek, a couple of tears falling as she did. His eyes fluttered opened.

"Oh Spike, you're back!" cried Buffy in delight.

He frowned as he struggled to focus on her. "Buffy," he said weakly.

"I'm here, you're going to be okay." Buffy glanced around and beckoned the nurse who'd shown her in. All thoughts of what she'd heard were pushed away by the delight at seeing him wake up.

"Hello there," said the nurse, "My name's Josie, what's yours?"

"Spike…um...Will...um…James," stuttered Spike in confusion.

Josie laughed, "Well, Spike…um…Will...um...James, what's it to be? Do you know?"

"Er…it's James but I get called Spike," he said as his thoughts cleared.

"So how are you feeling then, Spike?" She got hold of his wrist and checked his pulse rate as she spoke.

"Feel like I've been hit by a truck."

"I'll bet; that was quite a beating you took."

"A beating? Is that what happened?" asked Spike. He glanced at Buffy who slightly shook her head indicating that she didn't know either.

"We think so," replied Josie, "I'll go and get the doctor now that you're back with us."

As she left Joyce reappeared with two cups of coffee.

"Oh Spike, that is a sight for sore eyes," she said as soon as she saw that he was awake.

She passed Buffy her coffee, pulled over another chair and sat down next to her. Spike tried to sit up, he gave out a bit of a yelp that startled Buffy into spilling some of her drink, and then flopped back down again.

"God, that soddin' hurts," he gasped.

"What happened to you, Spike?" asked Joyce with concern.

"I don't know. I was walking home after," he shared a secret smile with Buffy, "um…after I left your house and the next thing I know is waking up just now."

He closed his eyes as a wave of nausea hit him. When he opened them again a doctor was standing beside Joyce and Buffy, holding his notes.

"Well, James, you've had a very lucky escape."

"I'm not feeling that lucky," replied Spike, since he seemed to hurt everywhere, a sensation that brought back the not so pleasant days in London post-accident.

"You were extremely fortunate not to suffer fractures at either site, both of which would probably have had catastrophic consequences for you."

"Oh," said Spike as a chill of fear went through him at the thought of what might have been. He gripped Buffy's hand even tighter.

"In light of your previous head injury I'll most probably keep you in for a day or two for observation. I'm just going to do a few checks on you now, okay?"

Spike nodded.

The doctor checked the response of his pupils to light and was pleased to see that Spike had feeling in his feet, as he'd been concerned that the back injury might have aggravated the nerves in his spinal column.

"Okay, James, I'd like you to sit up for me now, please."

Spike hesitated, "Um…I tried to just now and it really hurts."

"I know it will, but can you please try for me?"

Spike sighed and tried to push himself up. He gritted his teeth as pain shot through him. The doctor supported him with his hand.

"That's great, James. Thank you." He helped Spike to ease himself down. "Now can you just roll over on to your side for me, please, so I can take another look at your back?"

Spike turned onto his side. Only the thought of Buffy sitting there kept him quiet, it hurt so badly. Without thinking he'd turned away from Buffy and Joyce as the doctor was standing beside them. Buffy giggled a little when she saw his bare butt sticking out of the hospital gown he was wearing. Her giggles soon changed to a cry of horror as the doctor pulled the gown open to reveal the bruising just below his waist. There was a raised, angry welt already turning black and blue.

"My, that is quite impressive," commented the doctor wryly, "You can turn back over now."

Spike rolled over until he was on his side facing them all.

"I think I'll stay on my side," he said, grimacing with pain.

"I'll step up your pain medication now that you're awake."

"Thank you," said Spike with feeling.

"I'm afraid I must ask you ladies to leave James to rest now."

Buffy started to protest but was silenced by her Mom's hand on her shoulder. Joyce noted the greyish tinge to Spike's complexion and knew that the boy would appreciate some peace.

"Come on, honey, the doctor's right. He needs to rest."

Spike glanced at her gratefully. He really was feeling quite ill.

"Okay." Buffy kissed him on his cheek, "I'll see you again soon."

"Oh God! Rupert!" exclaimed Spike, "What about Rupert?"

"It's okay, Spike, I'll go and meet him at the airport. Don't you worry about him, just concentrate on getting yourself well," said Joyce, putting a hand on his shoulder.

As they left Joyce spoke to the doctor about the situation with Rupert. She managed to get him to agree that Rupert could call to see Spike as soon as he arrived back in Sunnydale, despite the late hour.

Josie arrived back at Spike's bedside with a syringe.

"Here you go - this will make you feel more comfortable."

The needle stung as she inserted it into the vein in his arm and slowly injected the drug. Spike sighed as he felt it take effect.

"Thanks, Josie," he whispered.

He was asleep before she had left the side of his bed.

To be continued….


	47. Chapter 47

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: I know they're not mine – don't nag!

Chapter Forty-Seven

Joyce was waiting in the arrivals hall for Rupert to come through. She'd managed to persuade Buffy to stay at home.

"Rupert!" she called as she spotted him and waved.

"Joyce! What on earth are you doing here? Oh good Lord, has something happened to Spike?"

"I'm afraid it has, but he's okay," she said quickly.

She went on to fill Rupert in on the details when she became aware of a short stocky boy hovering nearby. Rupert followed her glance.

"Oh goodness! I'm sorry, Richard. Joyce, this is Spike's friend from England, Richard. I mentioned he was coming to stay for a while as a surprise for Spike. Richard, this is Joyce Summers, Buffy's mom. I'm sure you've heard a lot about Buffy," he joked.

"Yeah, I 'ave," said Rich with a grin, "'Ello Mrs. Summers. Is Spike really okay?"

"Hi. Richard, I'm sure Spike will be delighted to see you. I've arranged that we can stop in at the hospital to see him on the way home," said Joyce.

"That's very kind. Thank you," replied Rupert.

Oooooo

Rupert's heart missed a beat as he saw Spike lying in the hospital bed. Unpleasant memories of the summer came to the fore.

"Spike," he said softly as he sat in the chair near the bed.

Rich stood beside him with Joyce hanging back a little. Spike opened his eyes. He was resting on his side facing them, the comfiest position he could find. He looked at them both vaguely.

"Who are you?" he whispered.

"Oh my God!" exclaimed Rupert in a panic. He glanced at Joyce; why hadn't she told him this? Then he heard a snicker and spun back around to see Spike grinning broadly at him.

"That is not funny, Spike, not funny at all!" snapped Rupert.

"I'm sorry," chuckled Spike, "I've been bored waiting for you to get here and I couldn't resist it. I nearly couldn't keep it up when I saw you, Rich. Wot are you doing here?

"I'm 'ere fer a week. We didn't tell yer so it'd be a surprise but wot is it wiv you and hospitals, mate?"

"Tell me about it, and before yer ask yer stupid question, yeah it does bleedin' hurt, okay?" joked Spike.

"Is yer 'air normally pink?" asked Rich.

"Wot?"

"Yer 'air. I know yer said you'd bleached it but yer never said anything about it being pink."

"It's not soddin' pink," protested Spike.

"I'm afraid it is rather," said Rupert, relieved to see that Spike felt well enough to be joking with them, "I think the cut on your head must have bled quite a lot and they haven't made a very good job of cleaning it up."

"Shit," said Spike, "Buffy's seen me with pink hair!"

Joyce had walked closer to the bed as they were talking, "I don't think that she was noticing the colour of your hair. She was concentrating more on willing you to wake up."

"You've got to get me out of 'ere tomorrow, Rupert. I don't want to stay in any longer than I really 'ave to. Especially now Rich is 'ere," pleaded Spike.

"I'll see what I can do. We'd better go. We'll be back tomorrow morning."

"Okay, Rupert. I'm sorry if I scared you," said Spike.

Their eyes met and they both knew that they were thinking of their losses in the summer. Rupert put a hand on his nephew's shoulder.

"I'm just glad that you're going to be all right. Goodnight."

As Spike watched them leave he thought about what had happened to him.

"_Dead, English, you're fucking dead."_

Angel's words rang out in his mind.

_"No, surely it wasn't him? The doc said I'd been lucky not have been killed. Surely Angel hadn't really meant to do that?"_

He shuddered. Not a pleasant thought, that someone might actually want you dead.

Ooooooo

Rupert and Rich were at the hospital as early as the doctors would allow. Rupert went to talk to Dr. Harper about the possibility of Spike's release and Rich wandered through to see Spike.

"Hi, mate, 'ow yer doin'? Yer look a bit rough," he said, sitting down next to him.

"Hi, Rich. Well, you'd look crap if you'd been hit with a bleedin' baseball bat," said Spike with a grin.

The truth was he felt terrible. His head was throbbing and his back…let's just say that the mere thought of getting out of bed filled him with dread. But there was no way he was staying in if he could help it; he'd had his fill of hospitals.

After about ten minutes Josie came into the ward.

"Well, it looks like you've made it. Dr. Harper's agreed to let you go home," she said.

"That's great," said Spike in relief.

"So I just need to give you a painkiller before you go."

Spike turned onto his back and offered his arm for her to access the vein.

"You'll have to turn back over. This one goes into your butt."

Richard burst out laughing.

"You can shut up!" said Spike, rolling over, "Ow! Bloody hell!"

"All done," said Josie, "Sorry it stung a bit but it'll really help you."

"Thanks, I guess," replied Spike.

"Morning, Spike. Ready to get out of here?" asked Rupert as he walked into the ward.

"Hi, I am. But I'm really hoping I've got some clothes. I don't fancy leaving in this with my ass sticking out of the back of it."

"I dunno," said Rich, "I reckon that nurse wouldn't mind. I think she enjoyed the view when she jabbed you."

"You wait, I'll get yer back, yer sod."

"I brought you some clothes from home and I've got what you were wearing yesterday in here." He held up a paper bag.

"Hang on a minute, where's my duster? It can't be in there, it's not big enough."

Rupert looked in the bag.

"No, it's not here. There's your boots, jeans and shirt but that's all."

"Oh shit, they've stolen my bleedin' coat."

"I'll just go and double check that it isn't here whilst you get dressed," said Rupert as he walked away.

Spike gritted his teeth and pushed himself up until he was sitting. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, feet dangling.

"Can yer pass me my jeans, Rich?" he asked.

In the end Rich helped Spike to get dressed as his back was so painful he couldn't bend very well.

"Look, don't tell Rupert how bad I am, okay? I don't want him to worry."

"'S all right, mate, I won't. Surely yer must 'ave some idea who did this to yer?"

Spike spotted Rupert returning.

"Not now," he whispered.

"You didn't have your duster on when the paramedics arrived. They've just checked with them. Are you certain that you were wearing it?"

Spike raised an eyebrow at him.

"Yes, silly question, of course you were."

"The bastard must have stolen it."

"No need for that language, Spike," chastised Rupert half-heartedly. He knew Spike would be devastated at its loss and was pleased that Rich was here as a distraction for him.

Rich looked at Spike anxiously, knowing that Spike treasured the jacket because it had been James'. Spike blinked quickly several times, embarrassed to find he was close to tears.

_"Christ, yer could 'ave been killed, Spike. It was only a bloody jacket - get a grip."_

"So can I get out of 'ere?" he asked quietly.

"Richard, can you go and get a wheelchair please? I've been given strict instructions that he has to be taken to the entrance in one."

"Sure thing, Mr. G," said Rich and he set off at a jog.

Rupert put his hand on Spike's shoulder.

"Thank God you're all right, Spike," he said, his voice cracking somewhat.

"Yer can't get rid of me that easily," joked Spike.

Rupert managed a smile at that. "And nor would I want to. My life would be far too boring without you in it."

Rich arrived back with the chair. They both watched aghast at how slowly and painfully Spike manoeuvred himself from the bed into the wheelchair.

"Jeez, mate," breathed Rich.

When they got to the entrance Spike refused to wait until Rupert brought the car to him.

"'S okay. I can see the car - it's not far," he said, quashing their protests.

Halfway to the car he started to regret his bravado. His steps were slow and stiff. Sweat was breaking out on his brow by the time he got into the car. He sat down with a groan.

_"What was it that Josie said? That the injection would help? It can start any time it bloody well likes."_

Ooooooo

Spike's thoughts were heeded; by the time they got home the painkiller had really kicked in, much to his relief. He settled in one of the armchairs whilst Rupert went into the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

"I can't believe yer never told me that you were coming," said Spike.

"I nearly slipped up a couple of times," grinned Rich, "I 'ope yer get back on yer feet soon. I don't want to miss out on seeing all the hot California birds." His eyes twinkled.

"You're impossible. I'll take yer out, don't worry. I just might be a bit slower than normal. Anyway, I thought you were seeing Emma."

"I am, but it's not like she'll ever find out, is it?" replied Rich.

"God, Rich, that's bleedin' terrible," admonished Spike.

"Aw, c'mon, I'm on holiday – it's allowed."

Spike shook his head. Since he'd first met Rich he'd had a succession of girlfriends, all falling for his sweet talking ways but none lasting very long - mostly due to the fact that they found him with someone else.

"Yer a git, Rich, a total git."

"Wot? Are yer telling me yer wouldn't do it?"

"That's right, I bleedin' wouldn't. I'm a one woman man."

"And that would be Buffy?" asked Rich.

"Yeah, that's the one," replied Spike earnestly, "I love her, Rich, I really bloody love her."

"God, that's a bit deep fer this time of the day. I've loved loads of girls – it's no big."

Spike thumped him on his arm.

"You're impossible. But I don't just 'love' her, I'm 'in love' with her. I have been for years - yer know that - and after yesterday…" he let his voice trail off.

"Wot? Her rushing to yer bedside?" asked Rich. He stared at his friend, "Oh God, yer mean yer…"

Spike glared at him and shook his head as Rupert reappeared, putting plates on the table. Luckily it worked and Rich shut up.

"Breakfast is ready, boys."

Ooooooo

"Can I phone Buffy please?" asked Spike after they'd eaten.

"Of course you can. She's at the gallery with her mom. Joyce gave me the number yesterday. I promised her I'd call so I'll have a quick word with her first and then you can talk to Buffy."

After telling Joyce of Spike's release, and thanking her once more for her help the previous evening, he passed the phone to Spike.

"Richard, can you help me to make up your cot in Spike's room please?" said Rupert, correctly guessing that Spike would prefer not to have an audience.

"Hey Buffy."

"Spike, how are you feeling?"

"Um…I'm bloody sore, truth be told."

"God, I was so scared when I saw you getting loaded into the ambulance."

"Sorry, pet," said Spike softly.

"It's not your fault, is it? You dope! There's nothing to be sorry for."

"So how did you come to see me? I think I was almost home, wasn't I?"

"Er…well Cordelia and Xander turned up at my house. She said that Angel was trying to find you. Did you see anything?"

"No," said Spike slowly, "but I reckon he must have found me."

"You've got to tell the police. He could have killed you."

"But I didn't see him, Buffy. I can't tell them I did if I didn't and I don't reckon they'll take much notice of me saying he was out to get me."

"He can't just get away with it," said Buffy.

"I know but unless there was a witness, he will. The bleeder took my duster too," said Spike.

"Look, I've got to go, the gallery is really busy. I'll see you tonight - we're still coming round for dinner. I love you."

Spike's heart swelled as she said that. "I love you too."

Ooooooo

Just as Spike put the phone down after speaking to Buffy it immediately rang again.

"Hello?"

"Spike! You're there. Xander called and said that you'd been beaten up and were in the hospital. But you're obviously not now so what's going on?" babbled Oz in a most unusual – for him – manner.

"Hi, Oz, "said Spike with a smile, "Xander was right. Apparently I was hit by something like a baseball bat, once on my back and once on my head. I did go to the hospital but Rupert sprung me this morning."

"But are you okay?"

"Well, I wouldn't want to be touching my toes anytime soon and my head's throbbing fit to burst but other than that, yeah, I'm all right."

"Who did it?"

"I didn't see," replied Spike, "But according to Cordelia, Angel was out looking for me."

Oz was silent as he tried to take in the implications.

"Oz?"

"Yeah, I'm still here, but man, hitting you around the head - he could've killed you."

"The thought had occurred," said Spike soberly.

"So, I'll see you tonight then?" said Oz.

"Um…we've got Mrs. Summers and Buffy and …" started Spike.

"For dinner, yeah I know. Mr. Giles invited me too. It'll be great to finally meet Rich," interrupted Oz.

Spike chuckled, "Was it only me that didn't know Rich was coming to stay?"

"I think Mr. Giles said he'd told Mrs. Summers, but apart from that just me. He only told me because he's useless with computers and so I've been e-mailing Rich for weeks for him."

"Good to know that I've got such sneaky friends."

"Look, Spike, I'll call the Bronze and cancel our gig on New Year's Eve."

"No way, Oz! I'll be okay. The Dingoes aren't missing that," replied Spike, even though he knew he'd still be hurting.

To be continued…..


	48. Chapter 48

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: only the plot is mine!

I'm pretty sure I'm accurate with what I say about the Artic Monkeys but don't shoot me if I'm not okay:)

Chapter Forty-Eight

Spike and Rich went into Spike's bedroom once breakfast was over.

"Come on then," said Rich, with a bit of a leer, "Wot's this about you and Buffy?"

Spike rolled his eyes, thinking that perhaps it hadn't been the best idea to say anything to Rich.

"Look Rich, can we just forget it?"

"No way! Yer can't drop a hint like that and then not say!"

Spike sighed, "Okay, well me and Buffy we…um…" His voice tailed away.

"So yer…um, did yer?" joked Rich as Spike blushed. _"Still the same old Spike." _"It's all right, mate, I get the picture."

Spike grinned back at Rich, delighted that he hadn't needed to go into the details.

"She's really special, Rich. I mean it," he added as Rich pulled a face.

"Christ, Spike, yer seventeen and yer acting like she's the one yer going to be with forever. She's yer first, mate, 'course she's special but surely that's it?"

Spike felt a surge of anger at Rich's words.

"No Rich, I'm not like you. Buffy's 'the one'. I know she is and unless I screw it up and she dumps me, I'm never goin' to need to look anywhere else," he said a bit sharply.

Rich put his hands up in mock surrender. "Okay, okay! Just don't forget to invite me to the wedding!"

"I'll think about it," replied Spike with a chuckle.

There was a tap on the bedroom door.

"I have a visitor to see you, Spike. Is it okay for her to come in?" called Rupert.

"Sure," said Spike, hoping it might be Buffy after all.

The door opened and in stepped Cordelia. Richard's mouth literally fell open as he saw her.

"Cor," he muttered.

Cordelia glanced at him dismissively. "It's Cordelia, actually."

Spike burst out laughing at the misunderstanding. To his surprise she promptly burst into tears.

"Hey, wot's wrong? Um…don't cry."

He and Rich exchanged a look. Cordelia sat on the bed near where Spike lay and buried her face in her hands. Spike pushed himself up with a grimace and swung his legs over the edge of the bed until he was sitting next to her. As she saw how painful movement was for him she cried even louder.

"Does she have an off button anywhere for this crying?" joked Rich.

"Cordy, shh…come on, please don't cry," soothed Spike, feeling very uncomfortable at her sitting there sobbing. Eventually she got her tears under control and looked up with red-rimmed eyes at Spike.

"I'm so sorry, Spike. I really am."

"Sorry for wot?"

"For what happened to you."

"Well, unless you were the one on the other end of the bat, it's not your fault, is it? So you've got nothin' to be sorry for."

New tears started to roll down her cheeks.

"_Christ, wot did I say?"_

"But it is my fault. I told Angel that I was seeing you and that's why he went after you," she wailed.

"Um…okay," said Spike slowly, "Er…why did yer tell him that?"

"Because I knew he'd be angry and I thought he'd beat Xander up and then it'd be all around the school that I was dating him and all my friends would laugh at me. I thought you'd be all right because you hit Angel the other week and he seemed afraid of you."

"Hang on…you're seeing Xander?" asked Spike.

"Yes, since the night you first sang at the Bronze."

"He never said anything."

"No, I told him not to," replied Cordelia.

"God, Cordy, you're dating someone but you're ashamed to let yer friends know? That's kind of mean. Yer know that, right?" said Spike, shaking his head.

"I know and I really like him but it's hard when you're popular. You've got standards to keep up."

"Is this girl fer real?" asked Rich, prompting more tears.

"Cordelia, if yer like Xander enough to date him then yer need to tell your friends. If they can't deal they're not great friends to have, are they?" said Spike quietly.

Cordelia stared at him, her brown eyes huge, "You're right. I know you're right. Oh God, I've been so horrible for keeping it a secret."

Before she could start crying again, Spike quickly said, "Why don't yer go and see Xander and tell him how you really feel about him? We're playing the Bronze on New Year's Eve. You could have your first 'proper' date with him then, okay?"

Cordelia nodded. "I will. I'll go now. Are you sure you're going to be all right?"

Spike grinned at her. "Yeah, I'll be fine. I'm pretty tough," he said as she left.

Oooooo

Richard looked at Spike and raised his eyebrows.

"Please don't tell me that all the birds are like that over 'ere?"

"Wot do yer mean? She's pretty, isn't she?" asked Spike.

"Yeah, but God, she's a bit intense."

Spike laughed. "She's had a bad couple of days. She's normally the opposite of intense."

"So are yer sure you'll be okay for the concert?" asked Rich.

"I've got to be," replied Spike, "We can't miss this gig. We'll have to do the sound check the day before so I don't have to do too much on one day. My tongue still hurts from where I bit it but it'll be fine by then."

"Listen to you, 'got to do the sound check'. Makes yer seem like a proper band," said Rich.

"Hey, we are a bloody proper band," retorted Spike.

"I didn't mean it like that! I just meant that the last time I was with yer and yer were goin' to sing, it was at a Karaoke and yer 'ad to get pissed first!"

"I love it, Rich. I never thought I would but I really do. I'm like a different person when I'm on stage."

"Well, I can't wait to hear you guys. Yer ought to get someone to video you and put it on Youtube."

"I'm not sure we're ready for anything like that yet," said Spike modestly.

"Aw, c'mon, 'ow can yer say that? If yer playing a club on New Year's Eve yer must be pretty good."

"Well, you'll just have to let me know wot yer think when you've heard us," said Spike.

Rich looked at his friend carefully, "Er…do yer want to 'ave a bit of a kip?" he asked, "You've gone a bit pale."

Spike smiled at him gratefully. "I would like to try to sleep for a bit if yer don't mind? I just feel bad that you're over here and I can't do anything."

"No worries about that. Just get some rest, yeah? Do yer mind if I take yer laptop into the lounge room? I want to check out bands on Youtube."

"Sure," said Spike.

Rich grabbed the computer and went out of the bedroom, only to reappear moments later.

"Mr. G told me to give yer these pills," he said, handing two painkillers and a glass of water to him.

"Thanks, Rich," said Spike, taking them from him and swallowing them down.

Rich took the glass from him and left his friend to rest.

Spike settled back into his pillow and closed his eyes. He was lying on his side to keep the pressure off the bruise on his back and within minutes he was asleep.

He woke with a start, heart hammering, about two hours later, emerging from a nightmare with a cry and sweat beaded on his brow.

"Shit," he sighed as he eased his feet over the side of the bed to sit up.

He put his head in his hands and groaned as he recalled the dream. Was that what it was? Or was it a memory? He'd felt the blows strike home but this time as he lay helpless on the floor he'd heard a voice.

"_That'll fix you,"_ it had snarled.

The voice had been Angel's. He didn't know whether he'd put it in his dream because he'd actually heard it, or whether it was just a reaction to being told that Angel had been gunning for him. It certainly wasn't the first nightmare he'd had featuring Angel.

Once the memory of the dream faded a little, Spike stood up, wincing as he did, and went to find the others.

"Ah, back in the land of the living, I see. Just in time for lunch," said Rupert, looking at his nephew carefully.

Spike glanced at his watch, "I didn't realise I'd slept for so long. Sorry."

"Don't be ridiculous, Spike. You know well enough that when you've been hurt that sleep is the best medicine for your body."

"But Rich…"

"I've been busy so don't worry about me," said Rich, smiling at him, "You ought to see some of the bands on the Internet. Christ, mate, they're bleedin' useless. We've got to get a video done of the Dingoes."

Spike went and sat next to Rich at the dining table.

"Let's have a look then."

"Are sandwiches okay for lunch?" asked Rupert, "We've got a three course dinner tonight, remember."

Both boys told him that they were happy with that.

"Do you need any 'elp, Mr. G?" asked Rich.

"No, you just show Spike what you wanted to. I'll bring them through to you," replied Rupert, going into the kitchen.

"Look at these guys, The Artic Monkeys. They made their name with Internet downloads and videos. Now they're having chart hits and playing big festivals," enthused Rich, "so it can 'appen."

"Really?" said Spike in wonder. _"Could the Dingoes actually end up making records?"_

"Yeah, and there are plenty of others too. I reckon the record companies must scout these sites nowadays to try to spot new talent."

He tapped a few keys on the computer to bring up a particular video.

"Mind you, some of it is total shite!"

Spike and Rich fell about laughing when the video started to play. The band was truly awful.

To be continued….


	49. Chapter 49

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: I only own the plot!

Chapter Forty-Nine

"Are you sure you're up to having everyone come round for dinner?" Rupert asked mid afternoon.

"Yeah. Honestly, Rupert, I am feeling better after having that sleep," said Spike, desperate to see Buffy that night.

Rupert gave him a bit of a 'look'.

"My back's the worst, okay?" said Spike, "But my head's not throbbing anymore, so I'll be fine."

"That's all right then. I just didn't want you feeling ill during the meal and having to put on a brave face," replied Rupert, putting a hand onto Spike's shoulder, "Now you two just keep out of the way whilst I get everything organised."

The boys thankfully retreated to Spike's bedroom.

"Rich, I need to ask you a favour, mate.

"Wot can I do fer yer?"

"Will yer…um…'elp me to wash my hair please?" asked Spike, blushing a bit.

"Wot? Fancy me now, do yer? Pretty erotic, washing someone's 'air," joked Rich.

"No! It's just that it's…well, it's still soddin' pink and I'm not allowed to get the sutures wet for another few days," he replied, grinning.

"'Course I will," laughed Rich, "Got to 'ave yer looking yer best fer the love of yer life."

"Rich," said Spike seriously, "you won't say anything to Buffy that'll make her realise yer know wot we've done, will yer?"

"Christ, Spike, wot do yer think I am? 'Course I won't. I know she means a lot to yer and if I'm being 'onest, I envy yer a bit. To be that sure, that certain of someone, well, it's bleedin' awesome."

Spike gaped at his friend.

"I'm not totally heartless, mate. It's not my fault if I'm still looking fer 'the one'," added Rich.

Spike grinned, "I think you're enjoying the looking part well enough."

"It 'as it's moments that's fer sure. Now let's get yer 'air sorted out, but if yer need a hand in the shower – yer on yer own!"

Ooooooo

Spike and Rich were setting the table for Rupert as they waited for the others to arrive. Spike's hair was now back to its usual snowy white. He was feeling much better thanks to a long hot soak in the bath and another dose of his painkillers.

Oz was first to arrive. When he saw Spike he gave his friend a hug, which told Spike how worried he must have been; Oz doesn't normally 'do' hugs.

"Man, it's good to see you."

"Yeah…well," said Spike, a little embarrassed, "Anyway, Oz meet Rich, Rich this is the mainstay of the Dingoes, my mate Oz. Not that you two haven't already gotten to know each other, wot with all the secret e-mailing and all."

"Hey Rich."

"Hi Oz, nice to finally meet yer."

Rich then launched happily into telling Oz of all the bands he'd seen on the Internet. There was another tap at the door and so Spike went to open it, smiling as Rich sat in one of the armchairs. It hadn't taken him long to suss out how uncomfortable the couch was. Spike opened the door.

"Mom's just parking the car," said Buffy before wrapping her arms around him and kissing him soundly. "I leapt out of it hoping I'd have time to do that before she arrived," she explained just as Joyce walked up to them.

"Great timing, pet," he said, "Come on in. Hello Mrs. Summers. Thanks for everything yer did for me the other night."

"That's okay, I'm just glad you're looking better already," Joyce replied, pleased to see he had lost the greyish pallor he'd had in the hospital. "Is Rupert in the kitchen?"

"Yeah, it's just through there." Spike nodded in its direction. "Me and Rich have had strict instructions not to go in but I'm sure you'll be welcome."

Joyce smiled at them, waved 'hello' to Oz and Rich and went to find Rupert. Spike took hold of Buffy's hand and squeezed it tightly.

"God, I've missed you," he whispered as he kissed her cheek gently. Then his lips found her mouth and he kissed her more passionately.

"Er…are they always like that? Or is it just wot with being injured and all?" asked Rich, grinning at Spike and Buffy's embrace.

"Nope," replied Oz, "that's pretty much normal behaviour."

"Bleedin' hell, 'ow do yer cope wiv it?"

"Because he's usually doing the same to Willow," said Spike before Oz could speak.

They all laughed. Spike and Buffy went to sit with them. Rich offered Spike his chair, knowing that sitting on the couch would hurt him.

"Cheers, mate," said Spike after he'd introduced Buffy and Richard.

Oz, Buffy and Rich all stared at him as he gingerly lowered himself in it.

"Yer can stop soddin' lookin' at me like that any time yer like," he grumbled, "it's not so bad."

"Don't talk crap," said Oz, "It's a soddin' miracle yer movin' at all today," mocking Spike's accent which was getting more 'English' the more he talked to Rich. "I'm going to cancel the gig."

"Yer can't!" said Spike and Rich in unison.

They glanced at each other and laughed.

"I know why I don't want him to cancel it but why don't you?" asked Spike.

"It's because I'm going to video yer when yer play. It'll 'ave to be at the sound check though; 'cause we don't want any crowd noise; we just want people to 'ear yer music."

Spike ogled at him. "But yer 'aven't even 'eard us play yet."

"I don't care. I know yer can sing, mate, I 'ave 'eard yer before. You tell me that Oz's songs are good and Oz tells me that your songs are good so wot's the 'arm?"

"Have you got a video camera?" asked Oz, starting to feel excited.

"Ah," said Rich, "therein lies the problem. No, I don't, but I bet we could hire one."

"You won't need to," said Buffy, "I've got one you can use. It's a good one - my Dad sent it to me for Christmas a couple of years ago."

"Great, that's it then; we're sorted," said Rich.

Oz and Spike grinned at each other.

"We'd better make the sound check a good one," said Oz.

Ooooooo

The meal was relaxed and happy. Buffy insisted that Rich tell them a few tales of him and Spike when they were younger, laughing at how uncomfortable Spike looked. Only Rich knew the real reason his friend was feeling like that and swiftly changed the subject.

Halfway through, Joyce suddenly remembered something.

"Oh, Spike, don't let me forget to give you your guitar and bag before we leave. They're in the trunk of the car."

Spike's face lit up, "I won't! I can't wait to show her to Rich."

"Her?" queried Rich.

"Don't ask," replied Buffy with a smile.

"So you like her then?" asked Oz.

"Yeah, she's great. Thanks for helping Rupert pick her out for me," said Spike, "Now all I've go to do is learn to play her properly."

"You're not so bad now and you've only been playing a few months. You'll be able to play on stage soon."

Spike pulled a face, "In a couple of years maybe?"

Towards the end of the meal Rupert noticed that Spike was getting a bit quiet. He guessed that he was starting to feel his injuries once more. He glanced at Joyce and saw that she'd noticed it too.

"Well, Buffy, we'd better go and leave these good people in peace. Can I give you a ride home, Oz?" she said once the meal was over.

"That'd be great, Mrs. Summers," replied Oz. He looked at Spike, "Shall we get to the Bronze at about midday tomorrow for the sound check? That's if you're sure you'll be okay?"

"I'll be all right," said Spike, crossing his fingers under the table. He was feeling terrible at the moment.

"They're not open so we can take our time," said Oz.

Oz brought Spike's guitar and bag in from the car as Buffy was a little busy giving Spike a goodnight kiss, which certainly perked him up a bit.

So are yer gonna show me it?" asked Rich after they'd all left.

"Her," said Spike automatically, "Um…yeah, okay."

Rupert glanced up sharply as he heard the distinct lack of enthusiasm in Spike's voice. He was being to look pale again.

"Oh, no you don't, Rich," said Rupert quickly, "You've got to help me with the washing up first."

"Oh, okay Mr. G," said Rich, "Don't tell me yer 'aven't got a dishwasher?" He followed him into the kitchen.

Spike sighed with relief and went to sit in an armchair. He'd had to sit on the edge of his dining chair all evening, unable to tolerate leaning against its wooden back. He closed his eyes as a wave of pain hit him.

"Mate?"

He opened his eyes to see Rich standing in front of him with a mug of hot chocolate and, more importantly, the last dose of his painkillers for the day.

"Cheers, Rich," he said as he swallowed them down.

"Why don't yer go to bed? I'll be quiet if yer asleep when I turn in."

"I think I will."

He took Rich's offered hand and let him help him to his feet. Rich returned to the kitchen as Spike made his way to the bathroom before going to his bedroom. He got himself comfortable on his left side and was fast asleep when Rich looked in on him a half hour later.

To be continued…..


	50. Chapter 50

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: I only own the plot!

Chapter Fifty

Spike was please to find that he did feel somewhat better when he woke up. Okay, so his back still hurt like hell - he reckoned it would for ages yet - but he'd lost the underlying nausea that he'd suffered from.

In deference to sharing a room with Rich, he'd slept in a pair of shorts. Spike didn't realise that Rich was awake until he heard him gasp as he turned his back to him, when he was pulling his bedclothes straight.

"Bloody 'ell."

Spike turned to look at him, "Wot?"

"Yer back. God, 'ave yer seen it? I've never seen a bruise like it, and there's a bloody great lump across it too."

"I don't 'ave to see it to know how bad it must look," replied Spike, "The lump's a haematoma. Apparently I'll probably 'ave to 'ave ultrasound treatment to get rid of it,anyway, that's wot the doctor told Rupert.

Rich was, for once, lost for words – well, for a minute or two.

"Stand over there against the wall with yer back to me," said Rich.

"Why?"

"'Cause I'm gonna take some photos of it. That way you've got evidence if we can prove that it was that wot's 'is name, Fairy?"

Spike cracked up laughing, "Angel, his name's Angel," he gasped.

"Angel? Fairy? Same diff," replied Rich, " So go on then, get over there and pull yer shorts down a bit so I can see the edge of the bruise."

Spike shook his head but went and stood where Rich wanted him to. He could see the sense of it but unless someone came forward, whoever did it would never be prosecuted. Spike had spoken to a cop when he was in the hosptal and Rupert had called yesterday to see if any progress had been made. Basically he was told that nothing could be done without a witness.

Rich took several photographs with his digital camera and showed them to Spike on its screen. Spike couldn't believe how bad it looked. The doctors had said that the blow to his head had been a glancing one, probably due to the fact that he was already falling to the floor. He broke out in a cold sweat thinking of what could have happened if he'd been hit on the head first.

Ooooooo

Oz collected Rich and Spike later that morning and took them to the Bronze. The others were already waiting for them when they arrived.

"Did yer bring the camera?" asked Rich as soon as he saw Buffy.

"Hi, Rich. Yes, I've got it. I put it over there." She pointed to a spot near to the stage.

"Oh wow! It's got a tripod too. That's even better," enthused Rich and he immediately went to familiarize himself with it.

"Hey you," said Buffy softly, going up to Spike, "You look a little better today."

Spike just stood and gazed at her. He still couldn't believe he was actually dating Buffy Summers. He almost expected a flock of flying pigs to whiz by or the sky to fall in or something every time he was with her.

"What?" she asked as he continued to stare.

"Nothin' pet, I just can't believe 'ow lucky I am to be with you," he whispered as he bent down to kiss her.

Buffy giggled. "Yeah Spike, you should make the most of your good fortune. So kiss me again already."

"Ahem! If you've quite finished, we do 'ave a job to do this afternoon," joked Rich.

"All right, all right," said Spike, "God, anyone would think that you were our manager." He kissed Buffy again and walked towards the stage.

"Now that's a good idea," replied Rich with a grin, "You wait, when I've finished with this tape you'll be needing a manager."

Willow and Xander hadn't seen Spike since the attack and both were shocked to see the row of sutures behind his ear. But it was when Spike walked up the steep steps to get onto the stage that they realised just how badly he'd been battered. He climbed them very slowly, holding onto the handrail tightly, eyes narrowed a bit at the pain.

"Jeez Spike, are you sure you're up to this?" asked Xander.

"Yeah mate, it's not so bad when I'm just standing still and I can lean on the stand to the mic a bit too," replied Spike.

He was determined not to miss this gig but he was annoyed that whoever had hit him – he still couldn't quite bring himself to think that it was definitely Angel – had made it so it wasn't going to be as much fun as it would have been if he hadn't been hurting.

Pete, Joey and Oz were already on the stage and were starting to play. Pete and Oz were tuning their guitars. After a couple of minutes they started to play the songs but without Spike providing the vocals just yet. They wanted to get the sound of the instruments right first.

When they were ready for Spike to start he stepped up to the mic and sang a few lines before he stopped.

"What's wrong? That sounded fine," said Oz.

"I'm sorry. It's just that I saw Rich pointing the bleedin' camera at me an' it put me off. I don't think this is gonna work."

Oz chuckled. Spike was always nervous at the sound check and now he had the added thing of Rich recording them to freak him out. It was a shame that it couldn't have been done in front of the crowd tomorrow night, but he agreed with Rich that it ought to be just them with no crowd noise.

Spike heard Oz's snicker and turned to glare at him, "'S all right for you, you're not the one standing at the front," he grumbled.

"Look Spike, relax, mate. I'm not even taping yer yet. I'm just setting it up so I know the best place for it to be and how much I 'ave to zoom in and out to get you all in shot."

Spike just cursed quietly under his breath.

"Don't worry about him, Rich," shouted Pete, "He's always like this at the sound check. Not sure why he wigs out when the room's empty yet loves it when the place is full. You'd think it'd be the other way round, wouldn't you?"

"Hey!" snapped Spike, "Standing right 'ere, yeah?" Then his face split into a wide smile. "Nice to know my band mates 'ave got me sussed out, isn't it? I don't know why it's easier with a crowd there but it is. I feel a bit daft standing up 'ere with just the four of you down there."

"Shut up and get on wiv it!" said Rich, "Just ignore me, I won't be filming until you guys give me the okay."

"I wish I'd got my soddin' jacket," grumbled Spike, "I've never started singing without it on."

"The girls always like it better when you take it off anyway," joked Joey, giving a little drum roll.

Everybody laughed at that. Spike grinned and winked at Buffy, "Come on then, let's get started."

Ooooooo

The band started to play, stopping every now and then to make adjustments. Despite what he'd told them, Rich was filming them already. He caught them laughing and joking together as Spike started to chill out the longer he was up on the stage. He'd gotten Spike's wink on camera. Buffy was standing next to him and so Spike had unwittingly grinned and winked right in to the lens.

Rich was impressed with how the Dingoes sounded and how they played ninety percent their own material. He hadn't taped any of the couple of covers that they'd run through. He loved music and went to as many gigs as he could, and most of them were unsigned bands. The Dingoes could easily hold their own against the ones he'd heard in London.

Spike had a habit of holding onto the mic with both hands whilst it was on its stand and leaning on it, usually with one knee bent. Rich thought it looked good on camera and was glad the camera also picked up the line of sutures too. Little things like that might help to get them noticed. Rich had barely slept last night, his head full of ideas of what he could do for the Dingoes. He hadn't told them yet but he was going to design a website for them as well as putting the video on sites like Youtube.

After about an hour everyone was happy. The band was satisfied they'd gotten the sound spot on and Rich was pleased with the footage he'd shot. Just as they were finishing up, Ron, the owner of the Bronze, came up to them with several dishes full of spicy wings and fries.

"Here you go, guys, help yourselves," he said, putting them down on a table, "That sounded great. I'm glad you're feeling well enough to perform, Spike. I couldn't believe it when Oz told me what had happened."

"Cheers, Ron," replied Spike, "No way was I going to miss it."

"I'll just go and get you some sodas. Coke okay?"

He was met with a chorus of 'yes's'.

"Ron must have sold all of the tickets for tomorrow night if he's giving away food," said Joey, "This is a first!

"Hey, I heard that," laughed Ron, coming back with the drinks, "I was thinking if you guys would mind doing two short sets instead of one long one?" He'd noticed how sore Spike was but knew the band wouldn't ask for any favours.

Spike resisted the urge to kiss him! He hadn't been sure that he would have managed to do the full session without a break.

"Um…wot do yer reckon?" he asked casually.

"That's be cool," said Pete, "It means that we'll get to party a bit too!"

"So what time do you want us to play?" asked the ever-practical Oz.

"I was thinking of nine o'clock and then again at eleven. The DJ can fill in the gaps and do the countdown to midnight."

"That sounds good," said Spike.

"Well, I'll leave you to it and I'll see you all tomorrow," said Ron, getting up and going back to his office.

The friends chatted amiably as they ate. Spike had one arm draped around Buffy's shoulders. He glanced at the others and realised that he now had some great friends. Looking at Rich made him miss James and his face clouded a little. He wished he could've gotten to see the Dingoes play. He met Rich's gaze and saw that he was thinking the same thing, then Rich smiled at him and the sombre moment passed.

To be continued….


	51. Chapter 51

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: I only own the plot!

Chapter Fifty-One

By the time Oz had dropped the boys home Spike was feeling distinctly worse for wear. As soon as he got inside he went to take a dose of his painkillers, which were overdue by more than an hour.

"How did the sound check go?" asked Rupert.

"Yeah good, thanks," said Spike, "Look, I'm sorry but I'm gonna 'ave to go and lie down for a bit, okay?"

"You go ahead, Spike. I think you've done remarkably well to do what you have today," replied Rupert.

"I can go through all the footage I've got, so don't worry about me," added Rich.

Spike gratefully went to his room. He pulled off his boots and lay on the bed. He closed his eyes and prayed that the pills' effects would soon kick in, as his back was killing him. After a time, he fell asleep.

Ooooooo

Rich was delighted with the film that he'd shot. The parts where they were just fooling around as they warmed up and tuned their guitars made a good impression. Rich had to admit that there was definitely something about Spike on stage that held your attention, more than just his voice, which had an edge to it that set it apart from most singers he'd heard. He had followed Ron back to his office and got permission to film during their gig tomorrow. He decided that the more material he had the better. Rich worked diligently, transferring the video from the camera to Spike's laptop.

Ooooooo

Spike reappeared a couple of hours later, looking slightly dishevelled but more comfortable. He saw Rich still huddled over the computer.

"So is it any good?" he asked, walking up behind him.

Rich pulled the lid of the computer down.

"Yeah, it's great, but yer not seeing it yet. It needs editing and setting up properly first," said Rich quickly.

"Okay, okay," grinned Spike, "Who do you think you are? Tim Burton? Spielberg?"

"Hardly," said Rich, "but it doesn't mean that I can't get it looking as good as it can."

"Yer really do sound like our manager," joked Spike, "I just hope yer don't expect any wages."

"I'll 'ave a percentage share of yer first album, 'ow's that?" Rich held out his hand. "Deal?"

Spike shook it. "Deal, just don't 'old yer breath, eh?"

"You guys will make it, Spike, I know yer will," replied Rich seriously.

Spike just grinned at him. "I'll just settle for doing a good gig tomorrow night."

Ooooooo

Later on the whole gang descended on Rupert and Spike's apartment. After about ten minutes of teenage chatter Rupert stood up.

"Buffy, is your mother at home by any chance?" he asked.

"Yeah, she is."

"Well, in that case, I think I may go and pay her a visit. I'm sure it will be much more relaxing." He smiled at them knowing that they were just as delighted for him to go out as he was.

"Bloody open plan living," he muttered to himself. There was no way the six of them could fit into Spike's room.

He picked up his jacket and keys, waved goodbye and disappeared with a sigh of relief.

"Look, guys," said Xander hesitantly, "I've got something I need to tell you."

Spike and Rich exchanged glances, guessing what he was going to say concerned Cordelia.

"Um…well…it's just that…well…" Xander swallowed hard. He was incredibly nervous of telling them after what had happened to Spike.

"He's seeing Cordelia," said Spike with a grin, putting him out of his misery.

"You're what?" snapped Buffy, "After what she made happen to Spike?"

"Hey, pet," said Spike softly, putting a hand on her arm, " Go easy, I'm still 'ere, aren't I? I'm okay. It wasn't really her fault; we've all done dumb things, yer know. She just panicked."

Xander glanced at Spike gratefully and Spike nodded his head, acknowledging him.

"But it's still Cordelia!" shouted Buffy.

"Buffy," warned Spike, "If I'm cool with it, surely you can be?"

Buffy calmed down a little. "I guess so. It's just when I think what could've happened to you…I can't bear it," she said with tears glistening in her eyes.

Spike leaned forward and kissed her. "But it didn't, did it?" He put his arm around her and she snuggled in closely.

"I know you're all not big with the liking of Cordelia but we get on really well. We've been seeing each other since the day that Spike first sang at the Bronze. We kind of kept it quiet to see how we got along and…well…we don't want to keep it quiet anymore."

"I'm pleased for you," said Willow.

She'd been friends with him since kindergarten and now that she had Oz she worried that he felt left out.

Oz opened his mouth to speak but Spike silenced him with a look, knowing that Oz was going to ask him why he hadn't wanted Xander to be driven home by her that night. He hadn't told Oz what she'd said because he thought that she hadn't seen Xander after that and so it didn't need bringing out in the open. Spike intended on having a word with her about the threat she'd made to him but didn't want it to be mentioned in front of the others.

"Cordelia?" asked Rich, "She's the one who came 'ere and wouldn't stop crying, right?"

"Yeah, she is. Rich wanted to know if she had an off switch," joked Spike.

"A remote control Cordelia, now that'd be worth seeing," laughed Buffy.

Xander was thinking something similar but the functions he'd like her to perform were definitely different to the ones Buffy was thinking of.

"So is she coming to the Bronze tomorrow?" asked Oz, "I hope you're still up for 'roadie' duties?"

"Yeah, 'course I am. She's meeting me there so I can help beforehand and help you pack up afterwards."

"Hey Rich, do you want to go and get some snacks and drinks from the kitchen? We may as well munch something while we're talking," asked Spike.

"Sure."

"I'll help," said Buffy getting up and following him through. She wanted to ask him something.

She got out a couple of bowls as Rich raided the cupboards and refrigerator.

"Um…Rich…I can understand why Spike doesn't talk about his family but can I ask you something?"

Rich turned to face her. "Yeah?"

"Um…" she hesitated. She didn't know how to ask but she'd been thinking about it since Spike had woken up in the hospital, "er…what was Spike's dad like?"

Rich smiled at her. He'd been worried what she was going to say but he was happy to answer that one.

"He was a great bloke. We used him like our own taxi service most of the time." He got a lump in his throat, thinking of all the times he'd picked them up from parties and never complained when they were late. "He was a right one for practical jokes, too, him and J…Spike were always fooling about. I wish my dad was half as much fun as Mr. Norman had been."

"Oh," said Buffy, recalling Spike's words, "He must really miss him."

She picked up a bowl of potato ships and a six-pack of Coke and quickly went back to the others.

"You okay, pet?" asked Spike, noticing that she had a bit of an odd look on her face.

"What? Oh, yes I'm fine. I've just got a bit of a headache," she lied.

"Here, let me take yer mind off it," said Spike, kissing her, "Is that any better?"

She smiled at him, seeing the concern he had for her in his eyes. "It's certainly helped, thank you."

Ooooooo

For the next few hours they talked about anything and everything – the way teenagers do.

Rupert kicked them all out when he got back.

"Come on, I'm sure you've all got homes to go to?" he joked as they left.

He surveyed the debris of the snacks that they'd demolished whilst he was out.

"I don't suppose you boys are hungry enough now, but I was going to order some Chinese food."

"We'll 'ave some Rupert, we're still 'ungry," said Spike.

"I don't believe you! After all that's been eaten?"

"Hey Mr. G, it must 'ave been mostly the others, right Spike? I mean we 'ardly ate anything," added Rich.

"I don't believe that for a minute, but okay, I'll still order some." He went to get the menu from where it was pinned up in the kitchen.

Ooooooo

Buffy didn't get to sleep for a long time. Her thoughts kept drifting back to Spike's first words when he was starting to come around.

"_Mom? It hurts so much. Why did Dad hit me again; was I bad?"_

Rich certainly hadn't seemed like he'd been covering up the fact that Spike's dad had been violent. She shook her head, trying to clear her mind.

"_It must just have been that he was all muddled up with the concussion."_

She finally fell asleep.

To be continued….


	52. Chapter 52

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: I only own the plot!

Chapter Fifty-Two

New Year's Eve - Spike woke early. He was excited at the prospect of the gig that night. Well, he was excited when he wasn't actually feeling sick with nerves. He seemed to be swapping between the two.

He felt a bit more mobile even though his back still bloody hurt. He wasn't seeing Buffy until that evening at the Bronze. By the time he'd had a shower, Rich was up too.

"I didn't say before, but I think that Buffy's great. I can see why you've fallen so 'ard fer 'er," he said.

"Cheers, mate. Yeah, she's the best. God, I think it'd kill me if we split up."

"I don't think that's very likely. I saw the way she looks at yer. She feels the same."

"I bleedin' hope so," replied Spike.

"Right, well I need to grab a shower. Wot's the plan after that?"

"I'd like to go to the mall. There was a necklace that matched the bracelet I gave Buffy for Christmas. Since Ron's actually giving us some money for playing tonight, I thought I'd buy it for 'er an' give it to 'er at midnight."

Rich gently punched him on the arm. "God, yer ole romantic."

Spike blushed a bit. "Is it too over the top?"

"Nah mate, you get it fer 'er if yer want to. She'll love yer forever, I reckon."

Ooooooo

Rupert dropped them at the mall, telling them to call when they wanted to come home to save them from walking.

"Don't do too much, Spike, you've got a busy evening ahead of you."

"I won't, Rupert. Thanks."

The two boys walked along in front of the shops. Spike caught a glimpse of his reflection and felt another pang at the loss of his duster. God, he missed that coat. When they got to the jewellery store, Rich spotted a sign in the window.

"That's lucky fer yer, they've started their New Year Sale already."

Spike glanced up at the poster.

_25 TO 35 OFF SELECTED ITEMS!_

He grinned at Rich. "Yeah but wot's the betting that wot I want isn't included?"

"That's a bet I'm not taking. It'll be the only non-reduced thing in the whole shop, I reckon."

They went inside and, to Spike's delight, the necklace was still there. Even better it was reduced by thirty percent.

"Lunch is on you then?" said Rich as they came back out.

"Okay, I'll stand yer lunch. Call it yer manager's fee," he joked.

"I told yer I want a percentage share of yer first album," replied Rich, "Are yer already trying to wriggle out of our agreement?"

The pair of them laughed as they went to the nearest burger joint.

Ooooooo

Spike had another afternoon nap when they got in, deciding that he'd probably feel better if he did. Rich once more messed about with the images from the sound check.

"Do yer want to take a look, Mr. G? But don't tell Spike I let yer. He's not looking at it until it's all set up 'ow I want it."

Rupert went over to Rich and peered curiously at the screen. Rich had partially edited it so that he had glimpses of them tuning up, then Spike's big wink to the camera. Rupert chuckled at that.

"Spike was a bit camera shy so I got Buffy to stand next to me. I knew he wouldn't be able to resist looking at her," said Rich.

Then it cut to them singing one of Oz's original songs. It was quite up beat and the guys looked like they we having a great time. Rich stopped it after the song finished.

"That's as far as I've gotten with the editing. Wot do yer think?"

"The song, is that one from the charts?" asked Rupert.

"No, it's one that Oz wrote. It's good, isn't it?"

"It's very good, Rich. I never realised quite how good they are. Spike really has a great voice and that song of Oz's, well…"

"I'll let yer listen to one of Spike's songs but I 'aven't got it where I want it yet."

Rich fast forwarded the video until he found 'Come Alive', the song that Buffy had told him Spike had sung to her the first night he'd joined the band. Rupert felt tears prick his eyes as he listened to its poignant lyrics.

"Bloody hell," said Rupert when Rich stopped the tape.

"I know," said Rich with a huge grin.

"Know wot?" asked Spike, wandering back through from his bedroom.

"Nothin'" said Rich quickly.

Spike glanced from Rich to Rupert quizzically but when neither said anything he shrugged and went into the kitchen.

"Anyone else want a coffee?" he asked.

Both said that they would.

"Mr. G, they could do it yer know – the Dingoes could really make it."

Rupert regarded Rich sitting in front of him almost bubbling over with enthusiasm. It would be easy to dismiss his words as teenage fantasy but, having seen the film, he wasn't so sure that Richard was wrong.

"One thing's certain, everyone is going to have a great time at the Bronze tonight," replied Rupert.

A few minutes later Spike walked through with the drink and Rich put the laptop away.

Ooooooo

Soon the whole gang was back at the Bronze ready for the club to open. Ron had cordoned off a table and chairs near the stage for them to use between sets.

"Wow, special treatment," said Pete, "We're getting paid and we get a reserved table. I could get used to this."

They checked their guitars were still tuned up okay, Spike sang a few verses to test the mic, and then they all gathered around the table. Spike had initially balked at Rich once more bringing the camera but then chilled out. At least tonight there would be an audience to distract him from its presence. He spotted Cordelia walking tentatively into the club. He got up and walked over to her as quickly as his injury would allow.

"Hi, Spike," she said nervously.

"Hi, Cordy. Look, I just need to say something to you before we get back to the others, okay?"

She nodded.

"I know you and Xander are seeing each other now and I can't get out of my head wot yer threatened me with at the dance."

She paled at the memory, and rightly so.

"I would never have done it," she whispered.

"I should bloody well 'ope not. Have yer any idea how bad a thing it would be to falsely accuse someone of?" said Spike firmly, "Christ, it would ruin their life, yer know."

"I know, Spike, but…"

"No buts, Cordy. I just want yer to know that if I hear that you've accused Xander or anyone else for that matter, that I'll tell everyone including the cops that you threatened me with it too. Understand?"

She nodded again.

"Good." He grinned at her and led her over to the others, "Let's get this party started!"

"What were you two talking about?" asked Xander as they sat down.

"Oh, she was just apologising again for the other day," replied Spike.

Cordelia flashed him a 100-watt smile in gratitude and started to relax a little more. She really had never intended to say anything like that at all but the fact was, she was accustomed to getting her own way and had been very put out when Spike had turned her down. It was the only thing she could think of that would make him agree. She couldn't have lost face with her friends by being turned down!

"_Spoilt bitch much,"_ she thought.

The friends were having a great time. Soon the club was filling up and they took advantage of the DJ playing a few slow songs to dance with their girls. Neither Pete nor Joey had dates, which was lucky for Rich as it meant he wasn't left on his own. He found he got on well with both of them and chuckled to himself that he was thinking of the filming too much to bother checking out the birds!

Ooooooo

Soon it was time for the Dingoes' first set. Normally they just mooched onto the stage and announced themselves but tonight Ron was going to introduce the band.

Oz glanced at Spike, laughing at him and slapping him on his shoulder. As usual Spike had gone very quiet and was looking distinctly green. He managed a weak smile in return.

"Wot the hell am I doin'?" he muttered as he heard Ron start to speak.

"Now's the time that this party will really start to rock! It's the first of two sets they'll be playing for you, so let's hear a big cheer for Joey, Pete, Oz and Spike – it's Dingoes Ate My Baby!" he yelled.

The four boys grinned at each other and walked on stage.

"_Oh yeah, I remember why I do it now," _thought Spike, nerves disappearing as he got to the mic.

"Hello," he said, "We 'aven't sung this one for yer before but it seemed appropriate. I hope you'll like it."

The band launched straight into a cover of U2's New Year's Day. It was the only song on the set list that wasn't written by them.

They were almost at the end of the set and just playing the intro to one of Oz's songs when Spike froze. His mouth went dry and for an awful moment he thought he was going to faint. He missed the cue to start singing. Oz glanced at the others and nodded for them to repeat it, then walked to Spike. He took his hand from his guitar and put it on Spike's arm. Spike leapt as if electrocuted and whipped his head round to look at him.

"Jeez, Spike, what's wrong?" asked Oz. He could feel him trembling.

"Angel," Spike croaked, "I've just seen Angel. Shit, it _was_ him. I just remembered him pulling off my jacket. He said 'let's see how cool you look without it'."

"The bastard," said Oz, "We've got to nail him somehow. Look, are you okay to carry on?"

"Huh? Shit…yes," said Spike, pulling himself together and realising he'd missed the song, "um, which one is it?"

"These Things Take Time."

"Okay, sorry, mate." He glanced at the others who once more played the intro and this time he remembered to sing.

He concentrated hard on singing the song well but he could scarcely control his body's reaction to seeing Angel. He scanned the room to see if he could see him again but the place was too crowded. He let his eyes fall to Buffy; she was watching him intently, knowing something was wrong. His heart lifted as it always did when he saw her and the tremors passed. A couple of songs later and they were finished.

"We're Dingoes Ate My Baby and we'll be back on at eleven," said Spike, and the band left the stage to raucous cheering and applause.

"Sorry I messed up," said Spike as they all walked back to their table.

"It's okay," said Oz.

"Yeah, man, I'm not sure anyone noticed really, with it being a new song," said Joey.

As soon as Buffy saw Spike she raced up to him and flung her arms around him.

"Are you all right? What was wrong?"

"Nobody noticed, huh?" said Spike, looking at Joey wryly.

"Buffy doesn't count. She'd notice if you blinked funny," he jokingly replied.

"I'm okay, Buffy, it's just that I spotted Angel at the back of the room and…well…my body kind of freaked out. Then I remembered the git nicking my jacket and what he said."

"We've got to tell the police," said Buffy.

"Still no real proof, love."

They all sat down and tucked into the food Ron had generously laid on for them.

Ooooooo

Two people in the audience had noticed Spike's reaction and that was Angel himself and Davey. Angel laughed when he saw Spike's face blanch. He'd seen Spike dancing with Buffy and knew that he was still feeling some pain. Angel was delighted that he was.

"Shame I didn't hit his freaking head a bit harder," he said maliciously, "It'd have been good if he'd made the stupid band miss their concert."

Davey shot him a sideways look. He'd been horrified at what Angel had done to Spike. When they'd gone looking for him, Davey just thought that Angel would threaten him, not hit him like he had. He had managed to stop Angel hitting Spike a third time by saying someone was coming. Then he'd run away as fast as he could. When Angel caught up with him, he was laughing like a maniac and was clutching Spike's duster in his hand. Davey was petrified of him at that moment. Sure, Angel had always been a bad ass but he'd stepped over a line that day and it wasn't a line that Davey wanted to follow him across.

Davey felt terrible for Spike when he saw him falter - he'd looked like he was going to puke. He glanced back at Angel who was near the bar talking to a couple of girls. When Angel was in 'chat up mode' he didn't care what Davey was doing. So Davey made a decision and quietly left the club.

Ooooooo

Their second set went even better than the first. Buffy sat with Xander, Cordy and Willow proudly watching her gorgeous boyfriend on the stage. Rich was somewhere in the crowd getting some more footage. She loved the way that Spike kept glancing at her as he sang. God, she loved him so much.

The Dingoes came off stage at eleven forty five and they were all together as the countdown for the New Year began.

"Three, Two, One. Happy New Year!" shouted the entire club.

Every couple in the place promptly kissed. When Spike and Buffy's lips parted, he dug into his pocket and pulled out the little box containing the necklace.

"Happy New Year, pet," he whispered in her ear.

"What this?" she asked as he pressed the box into her hands.

"A New Year's present."

"But I haven't got you anything."

"Shh, Buffy, you've already given me the best thing I could ever have," replied Spike.

Their eyes met once more, both of them remembering their lovemaking.

"And I hope that once Rich's gone home that you'll give it to me again," said Spike suggestively.

Buffy giggled, "When does he go home?"

Spike joined in with her giggles. She knew very well that it was on the second. So hopefully the third of January would give them the opportunity to repeat it.

"Aren't you going to open it then?"

Buffy squealed with delight when she saw it. "Oh, it's lovely! Help me to put it on."

Spike fastened the chain as she held her hair up out of the way. He dropped a couple of kisses on the back of her neck that sent a shiver of desire through her. The third couldn't come quick enough.

To be continued….


	53. Chapter 53

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: I only own the plot.

Chapter Fifty-Three

The next morning the two boys were talking as they lay in their beds.

"It was the best New Year's Eve party I've ever been to," said Rich.

"Me too," said Spike, not adding that it was actually the first time he'd gone out on that night.

"You've got some good friends, Spike."

"Yeah, I know. Wot about the Dingoes then? Do you still like us?" he asked as he sat up on the bed, relieved to find that his back was a bit better.

"Oh mate, you're great. I really mean it. The songs you an' Oz 'ave written are just amazing. I can't wait to get all the footage together. I'll work on it a bit when I get home and then I'll let you see it."

"Aw c'mon, yer got to let me see it sooner than that," protested Spike.

"No way! I know wot you're like. Yer'll be all 'oh no, yer can't show that, it'll make me all shy!'" teased Rich in a babyish voice.

"Watch it," laughed Spike, "You're only safe 'cause I can't bleedin' move quickly enough to get yer." He threw his pillow at him.

Ooooooo

Davey had had an interesting evening. His parents weren't too impressed with him initially when they got the call to go to the police station just as they were about to leave for their evening out. Once they got down there, though, they forgot all about their plans. Whilst they were shocked that he'd had a part, albeit as a bystander, in Angel's attack on Spike, they were proud of his decision to come forward and tell the police the truth. They had never liked him hanging out with Angel but it had been hard to discourage since they were both on the football team.

By ten p.m. that evening Davey and his parents were heading home and Angel was in a holding cell. Two cops had gone to the Bronze to arrest him and, as luck would have it, he was outside kissing one of the girls Davey had seen him with. One of the cops recognised him and so his arrest was quick and quiet, leaving the revellers inside unaware of what had happened. The baseball bat, complete with dried blood on one end and Angel's fingerprints on the handle, had been recovered from his parent's garage.

The only thing that Davey had left out of the account he told the police was that Angel had taken Spike's duster. He knew it would end up being kept for evidence for ages and he wanted Spike to have it back. So he'd taken it from the garage and hid it before he went to the cops. He liked the Dingoes, though he'd never told Angel, and Spike just hadn't looked right up on stage without it. There was something he had to do this morning and he was more worried about it than he'd been of ratting Angel out.

Ooooooo

Rupert, Spike and Rich had just finished breakfast when there was a knock on the door.

"I'll get it, Mr. G.," offered Rich.

He opened the door to find a huge yellow-haired boy standing there holding a big brown paper bag.

"Er…is Spike in?" asked Davey.

"Yeah, come in. I'll tell him," said Rich.

"I'll wait here," replied Davey, not wanting to go inside.

"Oh? Okay." Rich walked back into the lounge part of the apartment. "Spike, there's someone 'ere to see yer."

Spike walked to the door and stopped short as he saw who it was.

"_Wot the hell does he want?"_

"Is everything okay?" asked Rich when he saw Spike pause.

"I dunno," said Spike quietly and he resumed walking to the door.

He was pleased when Rich followed him and stood just behind his shoulder.

"Davey," said Spike coldly, "Wot are yer doin' 'ere?"

Davey shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. "You guys were great last night, well, what I saw of you anyway."

"Yer didn't come 'ere to tell me that. Wot's goin' on?"

"Er…I just wanted to give you this back." He thrust the bag towards Spike, "and to let you know that Angel's been arrested and probably charged by now for attacking you. They've got the bat, it's got blood on it and we know it'll be yours, don't we?"

Spike stared at him, and then looked into the bag. It held his duster.

"I'm sorry for what he did, okay? And not just this last thing, either. Anyway, I just thought you'd rather have it back than have it go in as evidence." With that he turned and started to walk.

"Davey," called Spike, finally finding his voice. Davey turned around. "Thanks."

Davey gave a slight smile and walked away.

"C'mon, Spike. I reckon yer need to sit down," said Rich, putting a hand on him and guiding him back to the chairs.

Spike sat down with a thud that made him wince with pain.

"Who was that?" asked Rupert, noticing how Spike had paled, "Are you all right?"

"Um…it was Davey," said Spike.

"Isn't that…" started Rupert.

"Yeah, Angel's mate. He gave me this." He pulled his duster out of the bag. "Angel's been arrested."

"Good Lord, that is good news."

"Shall I tell yer wot's even better news?" said Spike with a bit of a smile. "Angel turned eighteen two weeks ago."

"Wot's that got to do with anythin'?" asked Rich in confusion.

Spike glanced up at Rupert who had taken his glasses off and was polishing them.

"It means, Rich, that he'll be charged and dealt with as an adult, not a minor," supplied Rupert.

"Oh," said Rich, grinning at Spike, "that is good news."

"I'd better call the station now and find out what's happening," said Rupert.

"Don't tell them that Davey told us or that he gave me back my coat," said Spike.

"I won't. I'll just say I want to know if there's been any progress," replied Rupert and he headed off to the telephone.

Spike and Rich exchanged a high five.

"Got the bastard," said Rich grimly.

"Yeah, funny how much better that makes me feel," replied Spike.

Ooooooo

Spike called his friends with the news about Angel when they got back from the police station. He'd had to go down and give an official statement which he'd thought was pretty pointless, really, since all it contained was 'I was walking home when I was hit from behind on my back and then on my head. I didn't see the assailant'. He hadn't told them that he'd thought he had heard Angel's voice but since Davey had come forward it didn't matter. The police assured them that Angel would serve time for the attack as it was being treated as an attempted murder.

"_Not a bad New Year's present,"_ thought Spike that night as he lay in bed waiting for sleep to come.

Ooooooo

The next day was Rich's last one. He was due on a flight leaving in the early afternoon. Spike had arranged to spend the morning with his friend on his own. He'd really miss Rich; he'd fit into the group of friends seamlessly, like he'd known them all for years. His enthusiasm about promoting Dingoes Ate My Baby was infectious. They all couldn't wait to see what he'd caught on film as he'd still refused to show it to them.

Rich and Spike wandered back to the apartment, as it was almost time to leave for the airport.

"Spike. I'm gonna say something and I don't want yer to freak out, okay?"

Spike looked at him quizzically but said nothing. Rich swallowed hard and continued.

"Look, mate. You're gonna 'ave to come clean; at least to Buffy."

"Wot?" said Spike, standing still.

"You've got to. It's gonna blow up in yer face one day if yer don't. You've told me she's 'the one' and from the way she is with yer, I reckon she feels the same way.

Spike was dumbstruck; he just stared at Rich. His heart was racing. He slowly shook his head.

"How can I, Rich? I'll lose her," he said quietly, finally voicing the fear he'd had ever since they'd gotten close.

"Wot? So yer never gonna tell anybody ever?"

"Well, I was gonna tell Rupert when I graduated so that I'd be out of Sunnydale. But I can't now, Rich, she'll never forgive me." He was perilously close to tears.

"Mate, if yer tell 'er, yeah, she'll probably freak, okay, will definitely freak, but wot 'appens if she just finds out somehow?"

Spike ran a hand over his face. "I dunno," he whispered, "If she dumped me it'd kill me, Rich, I swear it really would."

"All the more reason to tell 'er now, Spike. I'm right an' yer know it. If yer serious about 'er, she's got to know the truth. If she really loves yer then she'll forgive yer even if it takes time."

Rich put his hand on Spike's shoulder.

"At least promise me you'll think about it?"

Spike nodded.

Ooooooo

When Rupert and Spike got back from seeing Rich onto the plane, they were sitting at the dining table having a hot drink. Rupert pulled out an envelope and placed it on the table between them.

"Um…when I was in London, I was going through their belongings and a box of effects had been returned by the police. All the things that they'd recovered from the car. One of the them was a camera. I had the photographs printed and thought you might like them. I didn't think you'd brought any photographs back with you. I've saved all of the ones from in the house. I wanted to wait until we were alone before I gave you these new ones though."

Spike stared at the envelope before tentatively reaching out for it. He pulled the photos out and gasped. He flicked through them quickly then glanced back at Rupert.

"Er…is it okay if I take them in to my room?" he asked, eyes glistening with tears.

Rupert nodded and wiped his own eyes as the boy fled to the privacy of his bedroom.

Spike flung himself down on the bed and laid the photos out in front of him. They were of the day of the crash - his birthday. They were photographs of them at Bodium Castle. As he looked at the happy smiling faces he broke down in tears. He laid his head in his arms and sobbed uncontrollably.

Eventually he managed to stem the tears and looked at them again. There was a photo of the five of them, Thomas in the middle flanked by Julia and Jayne, with the boys on either end. They were all laughing helplessly. He remembered how the elderly man they'd asked to take it had had trouble working the hi-tech digital camera. It had taken three attempts for him to take one.

There was one of he and James fooling around near the moat. Spike acted as if he was going to throw James into it. But the one that had really caused him to collapse was the one of him and his mom, arms around each other, beaming at the camera. He'd started to find it hard to remember her face. He cried again as he saw how happy she'd looked. About three hours after this she was dead – they all were.

Rupert knocked gently on his door.

"Spike, are you all right? May I come in?"

"Yeah," said Spike with a sniff. He dragged his arm across his eyes to wipe away the tears and sat up.

Rupert sat next to him, "I know it must hurt but I thought you'd like to have them."

"I do, I really do. Thanks, Rupert. It was just a bit of a shock, I suppose."

He leant into Rupert as his uncle put his arm around his shoulders. He clung to him like a small child, finding reassurance in his solid presence.

"I bought a couple of frames in case you want to have them out on show, but it's okay if you don't."

"Thanks," mumbled Spike as tears threatened once more.

Ooooooo

When he went to bed that night he put the photograph of the five of them in one of the frames and sat it on his desk. The other frame he filled with the photo of him and James. He put the one of his mom and himself in the front of the copy of Pride and Prejudice. He felt ashamed that he daren't have it proudly on display. He knew that he really needed to tell his secret. Sleep didn't some easily that night.

To be continued….


	54. Chapter 54

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: I only own the plot.

Chapter Fifty-Four

Buffy came to see Spike the next afternoon. Rupert was out for the day. Spike let her in and they both looked at each other a little self-consciously.

"Um…hi…come on in," stuttered Spike.

"Did Rich get away okay yesterday?" asked Buffy.

"Yeah, he did. I'm going to miss him. He's good fun to 'ave around," replied Spike. He took hold of Buffy and pulled her into his arms. "But I've missed doing this even more."

He kissed her as though his very life depended on it, needing her to erase the grief he'd felt at seeing the photographs. Buffy hugged him tight enough to make him wince.

"Oh sorry!" she exclaimed, "I forgot."

"'S okay. I just need your arms up a bit higher."

"How about lower? Is that okay too?" She playfully grabbed his ass.

Spike laughed, "No, that's fine!"

He took her by the hand and led her to his bedroom. They lay on the bed together and snuggled up. Soon their kisses got deeper and Buffy pushed her hand under Spike's shirt. He took that as his cue and pulled it up and over his head. She gasped as he turned to drop it on the floor and she saw the massive bruise. Although slightly less sore than it had been, it looked worse as all the bruising had come out. It was painted a myriad of purples, blues and black, with yellows along its edges. The haematoma was still there, a long narrow welt across the base of his spine. She shuddered and touched it gently. Its colours were livid against the paleness of his unblemished skin.

She pulled him towards her and encouraged him to lie on his stomach. As she pulled his jeans off she giggled when she discovered that he wasn't wearing any underpants.

"Mm…well, that's one less thing to take off."

She started to kiss him from his shoulders all the way down his back. As she softly kissed the bruising Spike could feel her hot tears drop onto his skin. He rolled over.

"Don't cry, pet," he whispered as he kissed her.

"But…"

"Shh." He silenced her with another kiss. "Let's just forget about everything but us."

Buffy sniffed a couple of times and then nodded.

"Besides, you're not being very fair, are you?" he said with a grin, "You've got me all naked and you're still covered up."

He reached up and started to unbutton her blouse. "Seems like I'm not the only one who forgot some clothing," he said as it was revealed that she wasn't wearing a bra.

"I thought I'd save a bit of time since it took you so long to undo it last time," she teased.

"You cheeky sod!" laughed Spike, pulling her blouse off and undoing the zipper of her skirt.

Soon the pair of them were naked and Spike paused to take in the beauty before him.

"Oh God, Buffy," he said as he buried his face in her neck, kissing her, sending a shiver through her as he nibbled on her ear.

Then he turned his attention southward. His hand slipped between her thighs and she shifted slightly to accommodate them. His searching fingers instinctively found her most sensitive of spots and she relaxed back into the mattress, as the feelings seemed to spread through her whole body.

Spike carried on down, pushing her thighs further apart as he wriggled down the bed.

"Spike? Ooh…you can't…" started Buffy, a little embarrassed.

He looked up at her, his vivid blue eyes meeting hers.

"Trust me, pet, I think you'll like it," he said, "and if yer don't, just say so and I'll stop. I promise, okay?"

She nodded.

He replaced his questing fingers with his tongue and she was soon lost in waves of pleasure. One of her hands ran its fingers through Spike's hair and the other grabbed at the sheets. As she bucked at his attentions, Spike raised his head to look at her face.

"Don't stop…oh please…I need…" she whispered.

Smiling, Spike resumed his duties, becoming seriously aroused at the effect he was having on her. A few moments later and Buffy climaxed with a shudder and a cry.

"Oh. My. God!"

She lay there, lost in its effects.

"So that was nice then?" smiled Spike, eyes twinkling.

"Oh Spike, it was unbelievable," she moaned, feeling boneless and unable to move.

"Well…um…in that case do yer mind letting go of my hair?"

"Oh God! Sorry," cried Buffy as she realised she still had a fist full of his hair in her hand.

Spike just laughed and came up so that he was level with her. She kissed him deeply.

"How did you know…?"

"There was one bonus for spending a few weeks in a hospital, pet. I used to end up looking at the nurses' magazines. It's amazing what you can learn from the problem pages," he chuckled and then took a sharp intake of breath as Buffy's fingers closed around his erection.

"I think it's your turn now," she said, guiding him into her still tingling body.

He entered a little more boldly than he had their first time - she was slick and ready for him. He almost came undone with that first thrust. She aroused him so much he could barely contain himself.

This time they were even more in tune. Buffy loved the way he whispered her name and looked deep into her eyes. Their rhythm increased until she climaxed again, his own following immediately. Sated and drenched in sweat they collapsed into each other's arms.

"I love you," he sighed, "God, I love you so much."

"I love you too, Spike."

Ooooooo

When they finally untangled themselves, Spike padded out of the room to shower. Buffy pulled on his discarded shirt and sat up. She noticed the photographs on the desk. Curious, she went to have a closer look. She picked up the one showing the five of them. She felt a pang of compassion as she saw how happy they looked and now all but one were dead. She was amazed at how alike the two boys were. Spike was inevitably wearing his duster, but William was doubled up laughing and you couldn't really see his face. She was glad that William had had a good time.

She looked closely at Spike's father as she recalled the words he'd spoken in the hospital. She knew looks could be deceiving but there certainly didn't seem to be any tension there. Buffy put that one down and picked up the photograph of the two boys fooling around, she smiled as she looked at them wrestling, unaware that a photo had been taken.

Absently she picked up the copy of Pride and Prejudice that was also on the deck. She flicked through it, remembering how animated William had been when he'd told her about it. She was pleased that it was one of the books Spike had 'rescued'. Something fell out of it and she bent to pick it up. Another photograph; she looked at it and then froze. It was obviously William and his mom, why else was it in William's book? But the way he had his head tilted and was smiling a touch lopsidedly was pure 'Spike'. She reached for the photo of the five of them again, peering at it closely. Her heart missed a beat; the boy wearing the duster wasn't Spike like she'd first thought. Frantically she grabbed the photo of the two boys. She could see it now – the one wearing the duster simply wasn't Spike!

"_What the hell..?"_

Spike walked back into the bedroom, towel around his waist, hair damp and curly from the shower. She thought she'd never seen him look so appealing but she didn't miss the worried look that flitted across his face when he saw her holding the photograph. He tilted his head a little; just like the image of William.

"Do you ever go anywhere without the coat?" she asked, amazed that her voice sounded normal.

Spike hesitated for a moment. He'd forgotten about Buffy being able to see the photographs but she obviously thought that he was James.

"Um…yer know me, I just love it," he lied.

Buffy just smiled at him a little sadly. He wrongly supposed it was because she was thinking of 'William'.

"I've got to go," she said quietly, starting to pick up her clothes.

"Wot? Now? Why?" asked Spike, "Don't you want a shower first?"

"Mom called on my cell while you were getting one and I've got to help her at the gallery. Paula's gone home ill," replied Buffy with a lie of her own.

"Oh, okay." He went to her and pulled her into his arms, dropping a kiss on her neck, "It's a shame though."

Buffy wriggled free, "Sorry, but I've got to hurry."

She got dressed and went to leave. Spike rushed after her and took her hand.

"Are you okay? Do yer want me to walk with?"

"I'm fine, it's just mom said that she was really busy. It's okay. I don't need you to come along."

Spike was going to protest but then he saw Buffy was wearing her 'resolve' face and he knew well enough that she wouldn't change her mind.

"I'll see yer tomorrow then," he said as he kissed her cheek, "I love you."

Buffy just smiled and nodded then hurried away. Spike watched her for a moment and then closed the door.

Oooooo

"_Oh my God! Oh my God!"_

The phrase just kept repeating in Buffy's mind as she half walked, half ran home. 

"_It can't be true. How can it be true?"_

But there was no doubt in her mind. The photo hidden in the book was of Spike. She remembered how confused he'd been when the nurse had asked his name.

"_Spike…um…Will…um… James."_

"Oh Christ," she whispered as she ran up to her room, slamming the door and bursting into tears.

She took the postcard from its place on her pin board. She remembered how he'd reacted when he'd seen it. How had she not realised before? But then, she hadn't actually known William very well; he'd been almost invisible to her, like the rest of the school, until that last week.

Why had he lied? How could he take up his dead cousin's identity? She tore up the postcard into tiny pieces. She thought of how close they'd become. She genuinely thought that he'd loved her, but if he'd lied about who he was, how could she trust anything he said?

Buffy lay on the bed and hugged 'Mr. Gordo', her stuffed toy pig, tightly to her chest. She felt as if her heart was truly breaking in two.

To be continued…..


	55. Chapter 55

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: I only own the plot!

Chapter Fifty-Five

The next morning Joyce Summers walked through to the kitchen to answer the phone. Buffy raced down the stairs as she heard it ring.

"If it's Spike tell him I'm not in," she said as her mom's hand touched the receiver.

"Why ever not?"

"I just don't want to talk with him, okay?" replied Buffy, disappearing from view.

Joyce could hear the thud of her feet as she ran back upstairs.

"Hello?" she said into the phone.

"Hi, Mrs. Summers. Can I speak to Buffy please?"

"I'm afraid she's not in just now, Spike." She didn't like lying to him but Buffy obviously had no intentions of talking to him.

"Oh, um…do you know when she'll be back?"

"I'm afraid not. I'm sorry but I must go. I have to leave to open the gallery."

"Okay, I'll try again later, thanks."

"Bye Spike," said Joyce, hanging up.

She walked to the foot of the stairs.

"Buffy?" she called. When she got no answer she went up to Buffy's bedroom. "Honey? What's wrong? Why don't you want to talk to Spike?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

Joyce opened the door and looked in. She could see that Buffy had been crying.

"Did something happen yesterday? Did you two have a fight?"

Buffy glanced up at her mom and just shook her head. Joyce sat down on the bed next to her daughter.

"He didn't…." She hesitated, "He didn't try to make you do something that you didn't want to do, did he?"

Buffy lifted up her head. "What? No, no he didn't." But she felt fresh tears falling on her cheeks as she spoke. She'd more than wanted to make love to him. "It's just…well…he's…I just don't know who he is anymore."

Joyce sighed; they'd obviously had a disagreement over something. She hated seeing Buffy so obviously upset. They'd seemed so close, perhaps too close?

"Will you be okay if I go to the gallery? I'll stay here if you want me to."

"No, you go, Mom. I'll be fine. It's just I really thought he loved me, Mom," replied Buffy.

"He probably still does, honey. It may all blow over and if it really is over then he just wasn't the right boy for my little girl after all, was he?" She hugged her. "I'd better be going."

"Thanks, Mom, for telling him I wasn't here."

"It's okay, but you can't avoid him forever. You'll have to talk to him sooner or later."

"I know, just not today, okay?"

"You do what you feel you have to, honey." She gave Buffy another hug and then left for the gallery.

Ooooooo

Spike hung up the phone. Buffy hadn't told him that she was going out this morning. He dialled Oz's number; perhaps he'd be up for doing something.

"Hello, Mrs. Osborne. Can I talk to Oz, please?"

"He's out with Willow this morning, Spike. He said he'd be back at about one o' clock."

"Okay, thanks."

He replaced the handset slowly. When Mrs. Summers had said that Buffy was out, he'd expected for her to be over at Willow's. He dialled Buffy's number again but it just rang and rang.

He pulled on his duster and went out of the door. His feet automatically took him to Buffy's house. He could see that the TV was on as he walked up the path.

"_Great, she's back."_

He knocked on the door. Buffy opened it, her eyes widening as she saw who it was. She tried to close it again but Spike put his hand out to stop her.

"Hey, pet, wot's going on?"

"Just go away," snapped Buffy, glaring at him.

"Wot 'ave I done? Did I…er…hurt you…when we…?"

"Go away, Spike, or should that be William!" cried Buffy.

He was so stunned that he let his hand fall from the door and she slammed it shut, missing his nose by a fraction.

"Oh, fuck!"

He opened the door, glad she hadn't locked it, and walked in. She was standing with her back to him. He went to her and put his hand on her shoulder.

"Buffy, I…"

"Get off of me!" She angrily shrugged his hand away. "Just get out! I have nothing to say to you."

"Just let me explain, pet…"

"What? Listen to more of your lies? How can I ever believe anything you say again?" She started to cry. "I don't even know what to call you, for God's sake!" She fled up the stairs.

Spike stood there, frozen. _'This can't be happening'._ He ran after her, grabbing her arm as she got to her door and pulling her around to face him.

"I'm still me. I'm still Spike," he said urgently. "How did you find out?"

She got hold of his hand with hers and prised it free from her arm. "Does it matter? So, you're not denying it then? I'm not wrong, you really are William?"

"No, I'm not denying it," said Spike softly, "I should 'ave told yer before now but I was scared I'd lose you."

"Newsflash! You have lost me! Please just go away."

Spike's breath caught in his throat and his eyes filled with tears.

"Don't say that, Buffy, please. I love you," he croaked.

"How can you say that? How can you love someone yet be telling them a lie all along?"

"I'm still me, I'm still the one you said you loved. So my name's William and not James. Wot difference does it make? I'm still Spike!"

"How can you say that? You let me think that you were dead. Have you any idea what that was like? Hearing that you'd been killed?" shouted Buffy.

"Well, yeah, actually I do know what it was like," said Spike quietly, "four times over."

For a second Buffy felt sorry for him. He had lost his family but then another surge of anger went through her.

"God! All the things you've said and done! I thought it was nice how you were preserving William's memory by getting the books. You let me think you were a nice guy. All you are is a liar who is disrespecting the memory of both your mother and your poor cousin! Christ, I hate you!"

Spike went to her and tried to put his arms around her.

"Buffy, please, I know I was stupid. Please let me explain."

Without thinking she slapped him across his face.

"Get out!" she screamed.

Spike brought his hand up to his cheek and stared at her, recoiling from the expression of disgust he saw in her eyes. Without saying another word he turned and by the time he was at the bottom of the stairs he was running as fast as he could. He left the front door open in his haste and ran blindly along the street, tears streaming down his face.

Ooooooo

Buffy walked dazedly down the stairs and pushed the door closed. She leant back against it and slid down until she was sitting on the floor. She hugged her knees to her chest, sobbing miserably.

To be continued….


	56. Chapter 56

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: I only own the plot!

Chapter Fifty-Six

Spike ran until he could no longer catch his breath. He stopped and leant against a wall, putting his hands on his knees.

"_Wot 'ave I done? Oh soddin' hell, I've totally fucked it up."_

He was distraught; his worst fear had come true. He'd lost Buffy. She hated him and he couldn't blame her.

"_Why didn't I just die in the crash?"_

He dried his eyes and walked on. He was standing outside a store wondering what he could do when he spotted Phil, Joey's older brother.

"Hey, Phil, how yer doin'?" asked Spike, forcing himself to sound bright.

"Hi Spike. You guys were great at New Year's."

"Wot?" It seemed so long ago now that Spike could hardly remember it. "Oh yeah, it was fun. Look, can yer do me a favour?"

Ooooooo

Luckily it was Oz who opened the door to his house and not his mom or dad. Spike was standing, or rather swaying, on the porch.

"Spike!" exclaimed Oz. He looked like he was going to pass out. "God, what's wrong?"

"Oz," slurred Spike, only it sounded more like Oszsh, "I'm totally screwed."

He took out the bottle of vodka that he'd gotten Phil to buy for him from the pocket of his duster and took a long pull at it.

"Christ! You're totally wasted, more like," said Oz, grabbing him and pulling him inside.

Spike tripped on the step and would have fallen but for the fact that Oz still had hold of him and kept him on his feet. Oz dragged him upstairs to his room. Spike slumped on the bed and took another slug of the liquor before Oz snatched it away from him.

"No. No, I need that," begged Spike, reaching out for it with his left hand.

"You really don't, Spike. Trust me on this," replied Oz.

"I do, Oz. If I drink enough it'll stop hurting, won't it?"

"Why don't you tell me what's wrong? What's got you so upset that you're looking for the answer in a bottle?"

"Buffy," said Spike, burying his head in his hands.

"I kind of guessed that," replied Oz, "I suppose she's found out that you're William?" he added matter of factly.

Spike whipped his head up. "Wot?"

Oz put the bottle on the bookcase and then sat on the chair to his desk opposite Spike.

"Why don't you just tell me?" said Oz calmly.

"But 'ow do yer know?" asked Spike, bewildered. Then a thought struck him, "Did you tell Buffy? Is that it?"

He leapt to his feet glaring at Oz. His threatening attitude fell a bit flat as he swayed dramatically and went white.

"You're not gonna…" started Oz.

"I think I might," finished Spike.

Oz grabbed him and hurried him to the bathroom. He stood outside as he heard Spike throwing up violently. He re-emerged several minutes later, even paler than before, if that was possible.

"Um…sorry," he mumbled.

"Come on, let's get you sitting down before you fall down," said Oz, helping a very wobbly Spike back to his bedroom.

"Oh Christ, Oz, I wish I was dead," wailed Spike, "She hates me, she really soddin' hates me, and I love her so much." He broke down into tears.

"Hey, don't say that. It can't be as bad as you think it is."

"It's worse. She won't talk to me…she slapped me…and then kicked me out," said Spike between sobs.

"So how did she find out about you?" asked Oz.

"I dunno." He looked up, remembering what Oz had said before. "How did you know?" He hung his head, avoiding his eyes, terrified that Oz would reject him, too.

"Rich told me before he went home," replied Oz, "He was worried what would happen to you if it came out."

Spike stood up once more, walked a couple of paces and took down the vodka. "I'll go."

Oz stepped around him so he barred the way to the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" He snatched the bottle from Spike for the second time. "For God's sake, sit back down."

Before Spike could move his cell phone started to ring. He got it out of his pocket, his heart racing. Could it be Buffy? He looked at the caller ID. His heart sank again.

"It's Rupert," he said, his words still slightly slurred. He stared at it stupidly.

Oz took the phone from him and held a hand up to Spike to keep him quiet.

"Hi Mr. Giles, it's Oz."

"Hello, Oz. I was just wondering where Spike is. So I take it he's with you?"

"Yeah, he came over and we're on the Playstation, it's his turn now, that's why I picked it up. I was going to call you to ask if he could stay over tonight. Please? I haven't seen that much of him with Rich being here."

"Yes. Of course he can. Tell him I'll see him in the morning sometime. Have fun."

"Thanks, we will."

Oz severed the connection and passed the cell back to Spike.

"Why did yer say that?" asked Spike weakly, sitting on the bed again.

"Because if he saw you like this he'd freak out."

"But…"

"Look, Spike, I'm your friend. Friends help each other out, right?"

Spike felt tears brimming in his eyes again and swallowed a couple of times.

"So yer still want to be friends with me even though you know I'm a liar and a coward?" asked Spike quietly.

"Oh man, Rich told me about how you'd been identified as James and how your death had been announced over here before you realised who you were. I'm not saying you were right to do it but I can see why you might have felt you had to," replied Oz, feeling sorry for the pain his friend was in, "Rich was afraid that something like this would happen. It does explain one thing, though."

Spike risked a glance up, "Wot?"

"Why you went so crazy at Angel that day," he said with a smile.

"Oh shit, Oz, everybody's gonna know. I can't face it. I can't."

"Just take it one step at a time, okay? If Buffy confides in anybody it'll be Willow so it'll probably just be us four to start with that know."

"I wanted to have left Sunnydale High before I told anyone. God, I should have told Buffy but I was so scared. If I'd've known she liked me I wouldn't have carried on as James but when she didn't call when I was in London I just reckoned that Davey had been telling the truth - that she had just done it as a bet. That sounds so bleedin' lame – no wonder she hates me. When I realised she'd really liked me, how could I say who I was then? It was too late."

He buried his head in his hands again. Oz didn't know what to say. Buffy did tend to see things in black and white and he knew she'd be feeling betrayed right now.

"You'll have to talk to her but perhaps leave it a few days first. I'll go and get us some coffee. Are you okay if I leave you alone for a bit?"

Spike nodded, his eyes straying towards the liquor. Oz stood up and took the bottle from the shelf.

"You won't be needing this," he said and went to tell his mom that Spike was staying over and to get the drinks.

Spike lay back on the bed, feet still on the floor.

"Christ Spike, could you have made a bigger mess of your life?" he groaned and closed his eyes.

To be continued…..


	57. Chapter 57

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: I only own the plot!

Song lyrics from The Smiths 'What Difference Does It Make' with a few words altered to make it fit the story! – Forgive me for messing with perfection!

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Two days had passed since Buffy had told Spike it was over. He didn't know how he would've got through them without Oz – he'd been amazing. Today was the first day back at school after the holidays and Spike honestly didn't think that he would survive the day. Rupert had tried to get him to tell him what was wrong but he'd just told him that he and Buffy weren't seeing each other any more and left it at that. He'd spent as much time as possible in his room. Thankfully he hadn't been tempted to drown his sorrows again as the hangover he'd had was horrific and, like Oz said, it wasn't going to help him any.

"Spike, are you ready?" called Rupert.

"Yeah." Spike put on his duster, picked up his school bag and plodded to the car with him.

"Are you feeling all right? You're terribly pale," said Rupert.

"'M okay," mumbled Spike, _"Course I'm pale - my soddin' heart can hardly beat anymore,"_ he thought in depression.

Ooooooo

Buffy looked at herself in the mirror.

"_Yes, I definitely look like I've spent the last two days crying,"_ she thought as she looked at her reflection in horror.

She was dreading seeing Spike, or should that be William? Her heart still flipped when she thought of their kisses and lovemaking but she just felt betrayed and was so angry with him.

"_Thank God for Willow."_

Her best friend had barely left her side since she'd called her after Spike had gone.

Buffy noticed the chain around her neck and her heart missed a beat, remembering how he'd given it to her at midnight. Hands trembling, she took it off. She couldn't bear to wear it. She put it on her dressing table next the bracelet it matched, tears pricking at her eyes as she did.

"Get a grip, Buffy," she said to her reflection.

With a sigh she picked up her school bag and went downstairs.

"I'm going, Mom. See you later."

"Bye, honey," replied Joyce.

She was worried about how upset Buffy had been. The only reason she could think of that could have caused such a falling out was sex. She presumed that Spike had wanted it and Buffy had refused. She wished Buffy would confide in her but as yet she hadn't. She shook her head ruefully - she certainly wouldn't want to be a teenager again.

Ooooooo

Spike had let Rupert go ahead when they got to school and so was walking up the steps alone. As he got nearer to the doors he felt panic rising in him.

"_I can't do it."_

Abruptly he turned to go back down them and go home, intending to call Rupert and say he was ill after all. He kept his head down as he turned and walked straight into someone, almost knocking them over.

"God, I'm sorry," he said, looking up.

It was Buffy. They stared at each other for a second before she stepped to the side to go past.

"Please, Buffy…" he said, putting his hand on her arm.

She shrugged it off, shook her head and walked away, fighting back tears.

"Buffy," he repeated.

"Just leave her be, Spike," said Willow gently.

Spike focussed on her, "I need to explain to her, Willow. Please ask her to at least let me talk to her. If she feels the same after that I'll never bother her again. Please, Willow," he begged.

"I'll try, Spike, but no promises, okay? She's feeling pretty hurt right now."

Spike nodded. She took his hand and gave it a bit of a squeeze, before hurrying after Buffy. He started to walk down the steps away from the school and then stopped. He'd gotten himself into this mess by not facing his fears; by being weak and cowardly. He couldn't keep running away, so he turned around and walked slowly to class.

Ooooooo

The day was a test of endurance and breaking point was almost reached in English class. Spike had gotten there early after lunching in the library, because he hadn't wanted to have to pass Buffy to get to his seat. He kept his head down as soon as he saw her. He felt sick with longing for her. The moment that nearly broke him was when Willow dropped a note on his desk. He opened it with trembling fingers.

(She won't talk to you. Sorry.)

He disguised his sob of despair with a cough and spent the rest of the class just staring at the piece of paper.

Buffy flinched as she heard Spike's reaction. It had taken all of her strength to stay in the same room as him. Although her body ached for his touch, her head ruled her emotions. He was a fraud and everything about him was fake.

Ooooooo

The rest of the week passed in a similar fashion. Both were miserable. Buffy still refused to talk to him or listen to his explanation or excuse, as she thought it was. The tutoring sessions had stopped and so he had no chance of getting her on her own. He'd reverted to going into the library at lunch. Oz came one day to keep him company but couldn't get more than a few monosyllabic words out of him.

"I need to be alone, Oz," Spike had eventually said.

Oz knew that was exactly the last thing he needed but didn't know what else to say and so had done as Spike had asked.

Ooooooo

On Friday, Oz and Willow had a plan. The Dingoes were playing that night and they'd decided that Willow had to get Buffy to come to the Bronze. Perhaps afterwards they might get a chance to talk to each other properly.

"So you're coming to the Bronze, aren't you Buffy? asked Willow before class started.

"I don't think so, Will."

"Aw, c'mon. Look, I know you don't want to see Spike but Oz is in the band too and he'd hate it if you never saw them again because of the lead singer. I'd hate it too. Please come."

Buffy looked at her friend. She'd been so supportive through all of this that she felt that she owed her something in return.

"Okay, I'll come, but I'm not sure how long I'll stay."

"Thanks, Buffy. I would have missed you if you hadn't come. I know I've got to like Cordelia now 'cause she's with Xander but I would rather not be stuck with her on my own," said Willow with a smile.

Ooooooo

At the sound check that night Spike was even more tense and nervous than usual, and this time it didn't ebb away the more they played. The rest of the band exchanged anxious glances as he stalked off the stage when they had finished. Oz nodded at Joey, who followed him to make sure he was all right. He found him sitting in a corner of the empty club, just staring at his hands.

"Are you okay?" Joey asked gently, sitting next to him.

"Not really, Joey. I'm a mess but I won't let you down, I promise," replied Spike, not looking up.

"I know you won't." Joey put a hand on his shoulder as he got up and then left him alone.

Ooooooo

By the time the club was filling up Spike had taken refuge in the tiny backstage area. Every time he'd seen a blonde head come into his vision his heart lurched, thinking that it might be Buffy. Each time as he stared he found it wasn't her.

Oz had told him that Buffy had said to Willow that she'd be there. He couldn't decide whether it would be better to see her or not. All he kept remembering was New Year's Eve and how close they'd been.

He walked up onto the stage with the guys to start their set. He was glad that he was wearing his duster. It gave him confidence somehow - he thought of it as his armour.

He grimaced after the first verse because he could hear that he was a little off key.

"_Bloody concentrate, Spike. Don't let even more people down."_

He closed his eyes, focussed and lost himself in the music. He opened them when he'd finished the song and glanced at the table where Willow, Xander and Cordy were sitting. His eyes widened as he saw Buffy was now there with them. For a second their eyes met until Buffy looked away.

"_Shit! I can't believe that I have hurt her so much."_

After that he threw himself into his performance, concentrating on nothing but the songs he sang. He couldn't bring himself to look her way again.

Before the second to the last song of the set, Spike left the mic and went up to the guys.

"Can we swap these last two songs around? Is that okay?"

"Yeah, no problem," said Pete, glancing at the others as Spike walked back to the mic. They shrugged, not sure why he'd wanted to change the play list.

As the band started to play the intro for their final song, Spike stared over at Buffy. Again she met his eyes for a moment before once more breaking contact.

"Um…these are new lyrics to an old tune," said Spike, "It's called 'What Difference Does It Make?' "

Buffy's head whipped up when she heard that. It was what Spike had said before she'd slapped him.

"_All men have secrets and here is mine. So let it be known,_

_I have been through hell and high tide. I think I can rely on you._

_And yet you start to recoil, heavy words are so lightly thrown,_

_But still, I'd leap in front of a flying bullet for you._

_So what difference does it make?_

_What difference does it make?_

_It makes none._

_But now you are gone and your prejudice won't keep you warm tonight._

This time Spike held Buffy's gaze and she just couldn't look away.

_Oh the devil will find work for idle hands to do. _

_I soddin' lied and why? Because I needed to._

_But now you know the truth about me you won't see me any more. _

_Well, I'm still fond of you._

_So what difference does it make?_

_What difference does it make?_

_You won't hear my apology. _

_I'm too tired, I'm so very tired,_

_And I'm feeling very sick and ill today,_

_But I still love you…_

As soon as he sang the last word Buffy got up and hurried away towards the exit. Spike leapt down from the stage and pushed his way through the crowd to her.

"Buffy!"

She hesitated, which gave him the opportunity to get in front of her.

"Buffy, please, can we talk? I'm begging yer here, Buffy. If yer still hate me afterwards I promise I'll never speak to you again."

He was unaware of the solitary tear that escaped from his eye. Buffy stared at him. God, he looked so wretched, so lost. He sounded sincere. She decided she at least owed him the chance to talk to her properly.

"Okay," she said quietly, "Come round tomorrow at eleven. Mom won't be there." She brushed past him and walked out.

Spike's heart swelled at the thought that she'd given him the opportunity to talk to her again. He knew he probably still had no chance of ever getting back with her again but he needed her to understand how he'd come to do what he had.

"Thank you," he whispered.

He suddenly realised that he was the focus of attention of practically the whole club. He didn't care - Buffy was allowing him to see her tomorrow. He ran back and vaulted up onto the stage. Oz mouthed the title of one of his songs. Spike nodded and grabbed the mic.

"Sorry about that, it was just something I had to do. Here's another one for you."

It was a fast track and Spike was glad of it. For the first time in a week he had hope. Okay, it was only a smidgin of hope, but it was hope nonetheless.

To be continued…..


	58. Chapter 58

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: I only own the plot!

Chapter Fifty-Eight

Spike was feeling so sick with nerves that it made his stage fright seem like nothing. He'd gotten to Buffy's house fifteen minutes early and then panicked about it and so had wandered along the streets killing time, which hadn't helped his state of mind one little bit.

He felt like he had this one chance to try to convince Buffy to forgive him and if he failed then that would be it. Game over. His heart lurched at the thought of never holding her again; hell, she'd probably never even smile at him again.

Spike looked at his watch for about the twentieth time in the last few minutes. Finally it was eleven o'clock. He stopped hovering near the house and walked up to the front door. He took a deep breath and then knocked on it with his left hand. After a minute, which had seemed like an hour, Buffy opened the door.

"Come in," she said, no hint of a smile present.

Spike swallowed hard. "Buffy," he croaked as he walked in.

He followed her into the lounge room and didn't miss the fact that she sat in one of the armchairs, giving him no way of sitting next to her. He sat on the couch in the hope that she might eventually come over to him. He glanced up at her face and she fixed him with a hard stare.

"You said you wanted to talk so…talk," said Buffy, coldly.

Spike dropped his eyes. He just didn't know where to start. Now that he was actually here with Buffy waiting he didn't know what to say. He risked another peep at her; she was looking pretty impatient.

"_God, this is hard."_

He stood up. He felt too hot and so stripped off his duster and then walked over to the window and looked outside. With his back to her he found the courage to speak.

"Um…I didn't decide to be James, I just ended up not telling them that I wasn't."

"Look Spike…er…Willi."

"Spike." He cut off her words.

"Okay, 'Spike'. If you're going to be cryptic about it you can get out now."

He spun around to face her, afraid that he'd lost his chance before he'd even begun.

"Please Buffy…this is hard. I'm not trying to be cryptic or anything." He was dismayed to hear a bit of a tremor in his voice.

When she didn't say anything, he carried on.

"Wot I never told any of you when I came back…"

"Apart from the truth, do you mean?" snapped Buffy.

He visibly flinched at her words and she felt a pang of compassion for him.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, "I'll be quiet now."

He nodded.

"I never told any of you that when I came around in the hospital after the crash I couldn't remember who I was. I didn't remember anything at all, not even the colour of my eyes."

Buffy gasped and stared at him, but he'd gone back to gazing out of the window.

"I was unconscious for four days. Rupert had been with me for three days before I woke up. They'd identified me as James because I'd been wearing his coat, which had a travel pass with a photograph in its pocket."

His eyes fell upon his duster lying on the couch before turning away once more.

"I was really bashed about. I'd gotten the wound around my eye and my nose was a bit bent out of shape and swollen."

He hadn't really realised how much the scar and his crooked nose had changed his appearance until he'd seen the photographs from England.

"I didn't know I wasn't James for three weeks," he said quietly.

"Oh my God," said Buffy, forgetting her promise to keep quiet, "But what about your accent?" It was one of the things she loved about him and hated the fact that it was fake.

Spike turned to face her. "Me and James had messed around trying to trick people that we were each other since we looked so much alike. I ended up copying everybody's accent and it had sort of just stuck a bit, even before the crash. I suppose I thought it was cool to sound like James and Rich. I'd dislocated my jaw and could barely speak to start with anyway. Then Rich started to visit and I just fell into copying him with out thinking about it. It just feels normal now."

Buffy was now fascinated by what he was saying and, encouraged by the look on her face, Spike sat back down opposite her.

"My memories came back the first day I was out of the hospital. Seeing my mom's writing in the copy of Pride and Prejudice was the trigger. I didn't just remember who I was, I…" He blinked a couple of times and swallowed hard. "I remembered who I'd lost too." He glanced up at her, his blue eyes full of pain. "I was going to tell Rupert the next day. I just couldn't face it that night. Then he told me that he'd taken the job at Sunnydale High and that we were coming back here. He told me of the memorial service being planned for when we arrived. All I could think of was how everybody, Angel especially, would react when I was revealed to be alive after all. I know yer can't understand wot I was feeling but for the first time in years I'd not been bullied." Spike looked at his feet, his face colouring slightly. "And I didn't feel afraid of everything. I panicked. I guess I was a coward too."

He got up and walked around the room, feeling ashamed of what he'd done. It sounded so stupid when he'd said it aloud.

"Did you think about me? What I'd be feeling?" asked Buffy.

"I never stopped thinking about you," he said, avoiding her eyes, "I thought you didn't like me. You'd never called."

"I couldn't. You saw how the number was smudged." Buffy reminded him.

"I didn't know that then, though, did I?" He glanced at her. "As far as I knew back then, wot Davey had told me was right. That you and Angel had just played me."

He saw her open her mouth to protest but carried on before she could.

"Look at it from my point of view, Buffy. Why would a beautiful girl like you be interested in soddin' William? In me? I'd loved you from the moment I first saw you. Until a week before I left for England you'd barely said two words to me. It was much easier to believe that you'd played a trick than to think that you actually liked me. By the time I realised how upset you'd been about William, it was too late for me to do anything."

"Why do you keep doing that?" asked Buffy sharply.

"Doin' wot?"

"Talking about William as if he isn't you?"

"I suppose because I'm not 'William' any more and I don't just mean because I'm not using the name. Rich sussed me out and wrote me a letter saying that he reckoned that William had died in the crash too. In a way he was right - I'm not the same person as I was before it."

He sat down again and this time when he met her gaze he held it.

"I don't blame you for being mad at me, Buffy, but I never meant to deceive you. I never thought we'd be together and once we were it was too late to tell you. You're the best thing that has ever happened to me. I was terrified of losing you." His eyes glistened with unshed tears. "And now I have. But I never lied about my feelings for you, Buffy. I love you, I always have and I always will."

He stood up again, unable to stay still.

"So now you know. Thanks for letting me come today." He picked up his duster. "I'd better go then." He held his breath, praying that Buffy would ask him to stay, but his heart fell to his boots at her words.

"Yeah, perhaps you'd better," she replied. _"Why doesn't he want to stay? Why did I say that?"_

"_Don't cry, Christ, don't let her see you cry."_

"Okay," he whispered.

He hurried to the door and let himself out. As he closed it he feared that he'd never step inside the house again.

To be continued….


	59. Chapter 59

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: I only own the plot!

Chapter Fifty-Nine

As Buffy heard the door close behind Spike, she curled up in the armchair and sobbed.

She was crying for what Spike had gone through, crying because she still felt so betrayed, and crying because she just didn't know what she should do. A big part of her wanted nothing more than to race after him and fling herself into his arms. But her head was spinning with it all and so she stayed where she was.

Spike walked home slowly, amazed that he was actually able to physically put one foot in front of the other. He was absolutely devastated. He didn't know what he'd expected to happen after telling Buffy the truth but he had hoped it wouldn't involve him basically being asked to leave like what had just happened. He tried to face up to the fact that he had lost her forever. His heart was in his boots. Spike was glad it was Saturday - at least he had another day to get through before he had to see her at school. He wasn't sure he'd be able to face it.

Ooooooo

Willow called Buffy about an hour after Spike had left, unable to wait any longer to see how his visit had gone.

"Hi Buffy, it's me," she said as Buffy picked up the phone.

"Hi Willow."

She could tell by Buffy's voice that the joyous reunion that she and Oz had hoped for hadn't materialised.

"So how did it go?" she prompted tentatively.

"Okay, I guess. Will, I just don't know what to think," replied Buffy, and she went on to tell her what Spike had said.

"What are you going to do?" Willow asked when she had finished.

"I really don't know. I love him but can I ever trust him again? I feel like it's all been a big lie. I got him that pendant for Christmas and when I gave it to him I told him it'd come from England just like him. It makes me feel stupid and angry that he let me say that to him."

"I can understand that, Buffy, and I'm not trying to influence you, but I do know that he really loves you. He told Oz that he'd loved you from the first day you arrived in Sunnydale."

"And I ignored him like everyone else for years," said Buffy sadly.

She was starting to realise how easy it must have been for him not to believe his luck at getting the girl he'd dreamed about for so long. She knew his home life had lacked love and could only guess at the hurt he'd felt when she hadn't called.

"Oh God, Willow, it's such a mess," she sighed.

Ooooooo

Spike sat on his bed; even listening to Ghost of the Robot couldn't raise his spirits. The conversation he'd had with Buffy kept playing through his mind.

"_Why didn't I ask her anything? Why did I just blurt it all out and then leave? Why didn't I try to touch her? Hold her hand?"_

He'd turned down Oz's offer of coming over and when Rupert saw how miserable he was he insisted on taking him out to see a movie that evening. Spike didn't take in any of the film and Rupert was dismayed when he even refused any popcorn as he had barely eaten all day. His misery was palpable but Rupert wisely didn't press for explanations.

Ooooooo

Sunday seemed to last forever. Spike just mooched about the apartment, listlessly doing his homework. He e-mailed Rich that morning and poured his heart out to him over the disaster he'd made of his relationship with Buffy.

Rupert was going out for the evening. He actually felt a little embarrassed about it, as it was the first 'date' he and Joyce were having. Both thought it ironic when they left their moping teenagers behind whilst they went out for a meal.

Since Rupert was out Spike was playing his CDs at full blast. It was only because a track had ended that he heard the knock at the door. Oz had said he might come over but Spike thought he'd persuaded him not to. Sighing, he ambled to the door, opened it and then looked up. He actually took a step back when he saw it wasn't Oz standing there but Buffy.

"Um…hi," he stuttered.

"Hi Spike," replied Buffy.

He just stared at her stupidly, his heart racing.

"Can I come in, please?" she asked with a small smile.

"Shit…God…yes, of course," Spike blustered, stepping to the side and beckoning her in with a sweep of his hand. They walked into the lounge area.

"Um…would you like a drink? Tea? Coffee? Coke?"

"A Coke would be great, thanks."

"Okay, I won't be a minute, just…um…sit down and …I'll…I'll be right back with it."

He disappeared into the kitchen. He momentarily leant against the refrigerator before he opened it.

_"Soddin' hell, Spike, come on! At least string a coherent sentence together, for God's sake."_

He took out two cans of Coke and, with hands trembling, made a mess of pouring them into glasses. He quickly wiped the spillage up and carried them through to Buffy, who was sitting in an armchair. He handed her the glass and sat in the other chair. Buffy took a sip and then put it down on the low coffee table in front of her.

"I've been doing a bit of thinking," she said.

Spike just nodded slightly, unable to trust himself to speak. His stomach was churning.

"A lot of thinking and, well…I've calmed down a bit now." She smiled at him and he held his breath. Was she going to say what he hoped she'd say? "You were right. You never did lie to me about anything really, did you?"

"I…um…" started Spike.

She shook her head, "Don't say anything just yet, let me finish, okay?"

Another slight nod.

"I thought about what you told me yesterday. I've thought about nothing else. I can't even begin to imagine what it must have been like not to know who you were. And then to discover that you were actually someone else must have been bizarre to say the least. I can see how you'd shy away from revealing it. I know what a hard life you had as 'William'. I bet you were horrified to be told you were coming back here after your death had been announced. I think you were wrong to do it." Spike cringed as she said it. "But with all the trauma you probably weren't thinking that straight anyway," continued Buffy. "I've got some questions I need to ask, if that's okay?"

"Anything," said Spike, his voice hoarse.

"Did you ever intend to reveal who you are?"

Spike met her eyes. God, he'd missed looking into them.

"I was going to tell Rupert after I graduated. I figured I could move away to go to college and so could start anew. If Rupert kicked me out, I thought I'd be able to go anywhere away from here and get a job. I never wanted to cheat Rupert out of any inheritance or anything," said Spike quietly.

"Okay, so what about me? Would you have told me?"

"Um…well…you never figured in my plans 'cause when I got back here I thought you hadn't liked me. Then I knew you didn't when I was stupid enough to hang out with Angel," he said with a hint of a smile, tilting his head on one side in the way that always made her melt. "The longer I put off telling you the truth, the more impossible it was to tell you at all. I'm so sorry, Buffy. I truly never meant to hurt you or anyone else."

"I know you didn't."

She could see that Spike was wearing the pendant she'd given him at Christmas, correctly guessing it had never left his neck. She opened the top two buttons of her blouse and pulled it apart. Spike looked at her quizzically then spotted the necklace he'd given her - the one that he'd not seen her wearing since the day she discovered who he was. He moved his eyes from the necklace to her face and saw she was looking at him with an apprehensive smile.

"Does that mean? Er…do you…um?"

"I want to be with you, Spike," she said, cutting off his stammering.

He froze. "Oh God, really?" he whispered.

"If you still want me?"

"I'll always want you, Buffy!" cried Spike, leaping to his feet.

He went to her and then paused, uncertain of what to do. Buffy solved the problem by standing up and kissing him soundly. His knees felt weak. He pulled her down until they were sitting on the couch. Their lips were never apart, their hands rubbing over their bodies, drinking each other in. They never even noticed how uncomfortable the couch was.

After kissing for what seemed like an age, the logical progression was to move to the bedroom, but a glance at the clock made them realise that Rupert and Joyce would be back from their date soon and so they didn't have time.

"Stupid Buffy, I should have come around earlier," she moaned.

"I'm just so glad that you came round at all. I felt a piece of me had died when I lost you," replied Spike, "Anyways, I'm kind of pleased we don't have time."

"Why?" asked Buffy, giving him a bit of a look, "Don't you want to make love to me anymore?"

"'Course I do, pet, but…well…I got knocked unconscious when I walked home after the first time and after the second we split up! So I'd rather try to arrange it somehow so we can spend the night together and that way hopefully we'll be okay in the morning," said Spike with a grin.

"Good point," laughed Buffy, kissing him again. She glanced at the clock, "I'd better get moving."

Reluctantly they untangled from each other and went to the door.

"I'm walking you home," announced Spike. He held his hand up. "No argument, okay?"

"Okay," agreed Buffy.

They walked along hand in hand, delighted at being back together again. After a long passionate kiss near Buffy's front door, they parted lips.

"Do you want to know what made me come over tonight?" asked Buffy.

"You said you'd thought it through," replied Spike.

"I had. I'd already decided that I couldn't live without being with you; it hurt too much. But what gave me the courage to come over was an e-mail that I got from Rich. He's put the Dingoes on Youtube."

"He has?" interrupted Spike.

"Haven't you seen it?"

"No, haven't been on the computer since this morning and hadn't got any e-mails then. I was too busy being bloody miserable to go back online later," replied Spike with a bit of a pout, which she promptly kissed.

"Okay, well, I'm not going to say what it's like. You can check it out when you get home. I saw the way you looked at me in some of the footage and no way was that a lie." She kissed him again. "You'd better go or Rupert will be back before you."

Spike sighed, stole one last kiss and hurried home.

Ooooooo

He got on to the Internet as soon as he got in. Sure enough, there was an e-mail from Rich with the links to the video on Youtube and to Spike's amazement also to the brand spanking new Dingoes Ate My Baby website.

Spike looked at Youtube first since that was what Buffy had mentioned. He blushed to begin with when he saw himself on there. It was the first time he'd heard himself sing, too. At one point in the video he turned directly to camera and winked. He remembered doing that to Buffy but bloody Rich had said that he hadn't been filming then. That must have been the bit Buffy meant.

"_I must remember to thank Rich for lying about that!"_

He grinned broadly as he watched the rest of the video. Rich had made a montage of snippets of songs for the first one and then posted each of the six songs he'd used, individually in full too.

Spike scrolled down to see some of the comments.

"_Christ, they really like us!"_

He then went onto the website. Rich had done an incredible job with it. He'd put the band members profiles on there. Spike cringed a bit when he saw his name but thankfully Rich had only put Spike Norman, with no mention of James. He'd gotten the whole concert on, slightly edited, and also footage of the sound check.

Spike was still looking at it when Rupert arrived home.

"Hey Rupert, come and look at this."

He walked into Spike's room, pleased to see the boy grinning at him. It was the first time in a week that he'd seen Spike smile.

"What is it that you want me to see?"

"Look at what Rich's done," said Spike, turning the laptop round so he could see.

It wasn't until he'd gone to bed that Spike remembered that he hadn't told Rupert or Oz about making up with Buffy.

To be concluded in the next chapter…..


	60. Chapter 60

Changing Lives

By Mabel Marsters

Disclaimer: I only own the plot!

Chapter Sixty

Spike fairly bounced out of bed the next morning. He gobbled his breakfast down and left the house earlier than usual. He'd told Rupert about Buffy and then had teased him a bit about his date with Joyce. He wanted to surprise Buffy and so had decided to go to her house and walk to school with her.

Joyce opened the door when Spike knocked on it.

"Oh, Spike," she said when she saw him.

"Morning, Mrs. Summers. Buffy hasn't left for school yet, has she?"

"Er, no, no she hasn't. She's only just gotten up and she's running late." She cast an anxious glance over her shoulder.

Spike realised that Buffy must not have told her mom about them making up. He hoped it was just because she'd been asleep when she'd arrived home and not because she'd changed her mind.

"She came over to see me last night, Mrs. Summers. She won't mind that I'm here."

"Oh, you've made up? Thank goodness, I don't think I could stand another week like the last one," said Joyce.

"Mom!" protested Buffy, walking down the stairs.

All three had a bit of a giggle and then Buffy and Spike left for school.

"I didn't expect you to come to walk with me," said Buffy, slipping her hand into Spike's.

"Just couldn't wait to do this." He pulled her into his arms and kissed her so passionately it left her breathless and a little weak in the knees.

They had to race up the steps to the school building when they heard the bell ring for the start of class.

"See you at lunch, okay?" Buffy asked as they parted.

"You will."

Ooooooo

Spike felt a touch nervous going to meet Buffy for lunch but he needn't have worried. Her face lit up as soon as she saw him and his heart soared.

"Hey you," he said, dropping a kiss on her lips as he sat down.

"Spike," replied Buffy, taking of one of his hands and holding it tightly.

"It's a good thing I only have sandwiches to eat," joked Spike, "since I've only got one hand. I'm not complaining though."

"I should think not," said Buffy with a kiss.

They were soon joined by Oz and Willow and then a few minutes later by Xander and Cordelia. Only Willow and Oz knew why they'd split but all four were delighted to see them both happy again.

"What you need is an evening together, just the two of you," said Cordelia.

"You're not wrong, Cordy," said Spike, "but I'm not sure how we're gonna manage it unless Rupert and Buffy's mom go out again."

"My folks are away for the week. Why don't you use the pool house? It's totally private and you could stay over if you can think of a reason for not going home. It doesn't have a bed but the couch is way big enough," said Cordelia with a cheeky grin.

She glanced at Xander as she spoke, who promptly turned bright red, much to everyone's amusement.

"I can feel the need for a study night coming on," said Buffy, looking lasciviously at Spike, "don't you?"

"Well, I'm pretty sure my grades have been slipping lately," he agreed with a grin.

"That's settled then," said Cordy, "Why don't you come over, too?" She looked at Willow and Oz. "It's a big house."

"Do you want to?" Oz asked Willow.

"Sure," she replied, a little shyly.

"Great. Shall we say Wednesday night? I'll make sure we've got some food in - it'll be fun. There's no need to tell your parents that mine are away, is there?"

They all shook their heads and laughed. Having Cordy as a friend was turning out to be a good thing. Her parents weren't in the same social circle as any of the others and yes, her house was huge, pool house not withstanding.

Ooooooo

Wednesday couldn't come soon enough. After classes Spike, Buffy and Xander squeezed into Cordy's car with Willow and Oz following in his van.

Once there, they all sat in the kitchen and snacked on the food that Cordelia had provided. After that, she showed Spike and Buffy to the pool house and left them with a shameless chuckle.

"Don't forget to lock the door!"

"Wow, this isn't embarrassing at all," said Spike, with pink-tinged cheeks.

"Mm," agreed Buffy, "It's weird that they're up there knowing what we're going to be doing down here."

Spike glanced at the couch which, true to Cordelia's word, was enormous. She'd left blankets next to it so they had no reason to go to the main house until morning.

"I reckon Xander knows that pretty well," joked Spike, pointing at the couch.

"Ew!" grimaced Buffy, "Xander naked is not an image I needed, thank you."

Spike stepped close to her.

"Need me to take your mind off it, do yer?"

"That would be helpful."

"God, I missed yer so much," said Spike softly as his fingers traced their way around Buffy's face, "That week felt like a year."

"Shh, don't talk about it," replied Buffy, "I still can't believe I hit you."

"Deserved it I reckon, pet," Spike whispered as he kissed her neck, knowing how she loved it, "I'll never hurt you again. I promise."

Buffy put her hand behind Spike's head and drew him to her lips, kissing him hard. All thoughts of what Xander and Cordy had been up to on the couch disappeared as they fell onto it, each trying frantically to undress the other.

"Bloody hell," muttered Spike as he struggled with the fastener to Buffy's bra.

She started to laugh.

"Hey, that's not exactly in keeping with the mood of the moment," said Spike, finally flinging the thing to the floor.

"He doesn't seen to mind," said Buffy, boldly placing her hand around Spike's arousal.

"Can barely control the sod when you're near me," he replied with a grin.

Buffy pushed him on his shoulder so that he lay down on his back. She gently stroked him, eliciting soft moans. She tightened her grip slightly and increased the rhythm of her strokes, leaning over to kiss him.

"Is that good?" she whispered.

"Oh God, Buffy, you know it is," sighed Spike.

She kissed his lips, his throat, his chest. She kissed her way down his body until she was level with her hand. He held his breath; surely she wasn't going to…

"Oh Christ," moaned Spike as he felt the tip of Buffy's tongue on him.

"You're not the only one who can get a few ideas from magazines," giggled Buffy before once more returning to her attentions.

"_Okay, this time I really have died and gone to heaven,"_ thought Spike as he gently ran his hand through Buffy's silky hair.

After a few more minutes he cupped his hand under her chin.

"Buffy, love, you've got to stop," he gasped.

"Why?" she asked looking up at him, "This is fun."

He pulled Buffy towards him, kissed her and then let out a bit of a groan.

"That's why," he said with an embarrassed smile, "I just couldn't hold it any longer. You drive me crazy."

Buffy laughed, leant down and picked up a towel from the floor and used it to wipe Spike's stomach and her hand.

"You've got to hand it to Cordy, she's well organised," she joked as Spike raised an eyebrow at the appearance of the towel.

"Come 'ere." Spike pulled Buffy down until they were spooned against each other, her back against his front. "I love you, Buffy Summers."

"I love you too, Spike Norman," she replied.

He felt a tear prick his eye as she said his name. But it was the right name. He was Spike now, no one else. They lay there snuggled up, just enjoying holding each other.

"That pool looks pretty inviting," said Spike.

"It does."

The pool was lit from beneath the water, giving it a magical appearance. Spike rolled himself off the couch.

"C'mon, then," he said, pulling Buffy, "Let's go and try it out."

Soon they were both shrieking and splashing each other. Buffy had the advantage being the stronger swimmer, but what Spike lacked in finesse he made up for in determination. Buffy soon fell into his clutches once more. Before they knew it, it was almost midnight and they were wrapped up in big fluffy towels, curled up on the couch. Buffy turned to Spike and started to kiss him.

"I'm too tired, Buffy," said Spike.

"Oh." She tried to hide her disappointment but failed miserably.

"Gotcha!"

"You pig!" she yelled, hitting him with a pillow.

"Hey, you really are kind of violent," said Spike, grabbing her wrists and pulling her over until he was straddling her.

"You deserved it," she grinned, "I'd do it again in an instant."

"Well, I'd better try to keep you distracted," said Spike, going south to return the favour…

"Spike, I need you now," ordered Buffy as she felt her climax building.

Spike repositioned himself so that he entered her smoothly, both groaning at the pleasure it gave. They were totally as one; their rhythm was a lesson in synchronicity.

"Oh, Spike!"

Buffy climaxed, her whole body thrumming in waves. Spike followed on her heels. They collapsed, breathless, into each other's arms.

"God, it just gets better each time," murmured Spike, nuzzling her ear.

"Can't wait for the next time, in that case," teased Buffy.

For the first time they fell asleep together, limbs entwined, unable even in slumber not to touch each other.

Ooooooo

The shrill ringing of an alarm clock roused them from sleep.

"Where is it?" asked Spike, blearily looking around.

"I dunno. It sounds like it's near our feet."

Spike crawled along the couch and looked down. Sure enough, there was the offending article. He turned it off.

"What time is it?" asked Buffy.

Spike squinted at it; he'd taken his contacts out.

"Soddin' hell, it's only six fifteen."

Buffy started to laugh. "Cordelia is the queen of organisation."

"Not that organised when she sets the alarm too early," grumbled Spike.

"No, she really is if you think about it for a minute instead of being 'all grouchy in the morning Spike'."

He looked at her quizzically. She licked her lips. The penny dropped.

"So," said Spike slowly, "we've got time…"

"We have," giggled Buffy.

"I think Xander must be a pretty lucky guy," said Spike, "but nowhere near as lucky as me."

He crawled his way back up to Buffy and soon the two of them were lost to the world once more.

Ooooooo

Six well satisfied teenagers went to school that morning, all sharing the common bond of an extremely good night's studying…

In between their love making Buffy and Spike had talked for hours. Now at the end of classes they walked in silence along the corridor hand in hand. When they got to the doors to the library Spike paused.

"Come on, Spike, I'm here for you," said Buffy softly.

He gazed at her for a moment before pushing open the doors and they both walked through them.

"Spike, Buffy, are you wanting a ride home?" asked Rupert when he saw them.

"Um…no…um…there's something that I've got to tell you," said Spike hesitantly.

"Good Lord! You haven't got Buffy…er…"

"No!" Spike said sharply, "No, I haven't."

"Oh sorry, it's just that you sounded so serious and…" Rupert's voice trailed off in embarrassment.

Spike opened his mouth to speak and then shut it again with a slight shake of his head.

"It'll be okay, Spike, you need to do this," Buffy gently coaxed.

"You're right," said Spike.

He stood a little straighter, squeezed her hand a little tighter and looked Rupert in the eye.

"The thing is, Rupert," he said, his voice amazingly calm, "I'm really William."

**The End**

Hope you've all enjoyed this story. The sequel will be coming soon and is called Parallel Lives so keep me on your watch lists!! Thanks for reading and even more so if you reviewed along the way!! Please vote for this story at Spuffy Awards, Forbidden Awards, Sunnydale Memorial Fanfiction Awards and the Lie To Me Awards!! Thanks to everyone who has nominated it! 


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